The Runaway
by EmilyF.6
Summary: After a soc is stabbed in the park, Ponyboy is sent to a foster home until Darry can win back custody. But when Ponyboy sees something he wasn't supposed to, it will be up to Dally to get him to safety, and up to his brothers to figure out how to get him home.
1. Escape

**The Runaway**

 _P_ _onyboy_

I didn't know where else to go. They'd ask my brothers first. I couldn't get my family involved in this, no matter how much I missed them. I missed them so much...no matter how I tried not to think about Darry and Soda, they always snuck their way in. It was coming upon a year...only a few more months. But thinking about that day just made me want to start bawling again, so I did my best not to. Three more years until I was eighteen and maybe then I could go home... Of course, that wasn't looking as likely now. Who knew if I could ever go back after this.

Johnny wouldn't know what to do...heck he'd just suggest this. This was always his answer. Had always been his answer. I hadn't seen Johnny in so long. I missed my best friend. Steve...well I hadn't talked to Steve in quite a while so he might have helped but I couldn't be sure anymore, and I couldn't get Two-Bit involved either. No...when it came to things like this, Dallas Winston was my best bet. Not that I'd seen him in at least three months. For all I knew, he didn't even work here anymore. But I would chance it. I needed help. I had to get out. I'd used the last bit of money I'd stolen to get here. Dallas had to be here. He could help me.

Dally had looked me up a few months ago, and even though he'd waited almost six months to do it, I guess I was just glad he'd come at all. Four months in a boys home, and then a little over three more in the hellhole they called a foster home and I'd been overjoyed to see him standing outside my school. He'd looked kind of concerned when he saw me though, and I guess that was because I'd lost weight and had a black eye. No one else seemed to care so I had been surprised that he did. I'd kind of forgotten what that felt like.

I'd almost hugged him. It had been a close thing. I'd been about to start the too-short walk home, and I'd spotted him leaning against a car I guess he'd borrowed. His jaw had gotten tight when I'd run up to him, and his eyes had raked over me, narrow and almost worried. "Hey kid." He'd greeted me simply, like I'd just seen him yesterday. In fact, the last time I had seen him was the day the social worker had shown up in our living room, ordering me to pack. Darry had had a fit. Soda had started bawling. But Dally had just sat there, glaring holes in the back of the social worker's back. Then he'd met my eyes, pulling me out of my panic. 'Toughen up, kid.' His eyes had told me. I'd tried. Ever since that day, I'd been trying so hard. Glory it was hard.

I wanted my brothers so bad. But I'd only spoken to Soda three times since that day, and I hadn't talked to Darry at all. No visitation rights. No contact for at least six months after what had happened with Bob...those were the rules. And then, a month after we'd supposedly been allowed to see each other...still nothing. I had to wonder...had Darry and Soda forgotten me? No way. No matter how Darry and I had fought before I'd been taken away, I knew he didn't really hate me.

"Need a ride back to your house?" Those words from Dal a few months ago had almost made me start bawling right there in the middle of the parking lot, and I'd nodded, eyes hot, climbing carefully into the car. The asshole had snapped a few days ago and the black eye had been the least of my troubles at the time. If Dally noticed how stiff I seemed, he sure hadn't let on. I was just glad the long sleeved shirt covered my entire upper body.

"I had Tim and his gang scouting around...one of 'em finally spotted you." He'd told me from the driver's seat. Apparently he knew where I lived. By car, it had only taken a few minutes. On foot, if I walked slowly enough, I could stretch it out to thirty. I didn't run track here, so they didn't suspect I could move any faster. Dally hadn't asked me any questions, and I'd bitten back every single one I had for him. Was Soda okay? Did Darry miss me? What about Johnny and Two-Bit? Heck, I'd even wanted to know how Steve was doing. But more than anything, I hadn't wanted Dally to leave me there again. Of course, I couldn't have said any of that to him. Or maybe I could have. He'd seen some bad things. No doubt he would have believed me.

Instead of exchanging stories we'd sat outside the hellhole for a little while, him handing me a cigarette and me glancing at the house before taking it. Of course he didn't miss that. "They don't want you smoking?" He'd asked, his voice betraying no interest.

"They don't like it." I'd told him simply, leaving out stories of the times the asshole had caught me and put the lit cigarettes out on my skin. No need for him to know that. He'd tried it on the youngest of us, my foster sister, just a few days ago. The girl was new, a year younger than me and already tougher, but she dug okay. She'd lit up before I could warn her, and when the man had tried that shit with her, I'd grabbed the cigarette and thrown it out the window. It was how I'd gotten that black eye...and the bruises on my stomach Dally hadn't seen.

"Darry's trying to get a court date. Hell, he's been trying since day 1, kid." Dal had told me, puffing hard on his stick. I inhaled deeply, holding the cigarette limply between my first two fingers and staring out the window instead of at him...I didn't want to cry in front of Dally. "They're still giving him the runaround." I'd figured that. I couldn't believe that Darry would willingly let me stay here. When they'd all but dragged me out of my house, he'd grabbed me back, wrapping his arms real tight around me and putting his cheek on my hair.

"I ain't gonna let this happen, Pony. We're gonna get you out, you hear me, kiddo?" I'd nodded, truly believing it. Then a few months had passed...then I'd been put in a foster home a few towns over and my hope was pretty much all used up. They hadn't bothered taking Soda...he had been just over a year from eighteen, so he was still a minor, but he hadn't been involved with the stuff with Bob, so I guess he wasn't in trouble. I'd made him a card on his seventeenth birthday. Inside was the best picture of him I could draw, and even I had to admit, it looked just like him, laughing eyes and all as he stood beside Steve. I could remember them perfectly, leaning against Steve's truck...it had taken me three weeks at the boy's home where, thankfully, I'd mostly been left alone.

Darry, too, had gotten a homemade card for his birthday, this one a picture of him with a fishing pole, turning and grinning at me. I remembered that too. I'd gotten a bite that day...he'd turned with a smile for me as Dad had helped me reel it in, only a few months before our dad was gone. "There you go, Pony!" He'd said, grinning at my excitement as Dad had put a hand on my shoulder.

I kept both cards under my mattress at the hellhole, tucked up above the box spring. It was the only safe place. It was also where I kept my switch. Thankfully, I had all three things on me now.

Outside of that hellhole, parked out on the street, I'd turned to Dallas. "Don't tell them. Please." I'd asked. He'd regarded me coolly.

"Tell 'em what? That I found you, or that the asshole you live with beats on you." Both were true. I'd shrugged, not trying to deny it, nor was I surprised that he and I had the same nickname for Richard.

"Either. Why worry 'em?" I had known what he was thinking. Why didn't I just tell the social workers or someone what was really going on? The answer, of course, was that I had. What I hadn't known was that my word didn't count for much since Johnny and I had nearly killed a soc in the park, and the social worker and the asshole were seeing each other on the side anyway. He'd made himself real clear that night that I had better not ever open my mouth again.

Instead of answering me, Dally had jerked his chin to something behind me, and I'd turned to find Lianne with a new black eye that matched mine. There were five of us foster kids crammed in that place, with two older guys sharing a room with me, and a seventeen year old girl sharing a room with Lianne. Thankfully the other guys never messed with me...well, not after that first night when I'd held my own against them. Apparently they'd respected that. The oldest girl ignored all of us. No one minded much. "Hey Li." I had no problem with any of my new 'siblings.' I just wanted to go home. "Lianne, this is Dallas." I had held off on the last names. If I'd learned anything over the last few months, it was that less was more. "Dally, this is Lianne. She just got here a few days ago."

He'd nodded to her, a relatively polite smile on her face. "Nice to meet ya." He'd said, using the voice he always used around girlfriends and family. Not too nice but friendly enough.

"Likewise." She hadn't been scared of him that was for sure. She was pretty, I guess, but at only just thirteen, she wasn't old enough to interest Dally much. "You best get inside. We've got about twenty minutes." I'd nodded, and she'd headed back into the house. Turning back to Dal, I'd asked him again.

"Don't tell them. Please, Dal?" I rarely asked Dally for anything…of course now, I would have to ask him something big.

He'd stared at me for a minute, then shrugged. "Whatever you say, kid." I'd paused before jumping out of the car.

"They alright? Soda and Darry?" He'd shaken his head, a mirthless smile on his face.

"Naw, kid. They ain't." He'd pulled out his wallet, then, holding out a dollar that I took after a second of hesitation. "Get yourself something to eat, kid." And that had been the last time I'd seen him. Until now. I had to see him now.

Buck answered the door. He didn't know me, thankfully, and he couldn't get word to anyone that I had been here. The asshole would be forced to report me missing by tomorrow night at the latest, and I had to be far away by then. I had to get out. And not to another foster home. Not back to the boys' home. I had to get _out_. "I need to talk to Dallas Winston." I told him, making my voice low and tough.

He shook his head, probably about to tell me that Dally was busy, and I took a threatening step forward. I knew I was taller, and the new ragged cut running from my temple to my mouth made me look pretty tough. I was sure my eyes were still red from crying, one already swelling from the black eye, but there was a chance he'd think I was on drugs or something. I was still thin...thinner than before. I was always hungry but the asshole never bought food, at least not for us. It was best not to be caught eating anything from the pantry, and when the asshole's wife did cook, it wasn't much. The older guys, while they didn't look out for me or nothing, sometimes gave me some change to buy lunch at school. "I need to talk to Dallas Winston right now." I snarled, getting up in his face. I knew I looked mean, especially with that new cut on my face. I'd perfected that look over the last few months. It worked at school, since there were no real greasers or socs in that town, and it would work now...I hoped. I really didn't want to give my name. Then an idea occurred to me. "Tell him Tim sent me."

I hadn't spoken to Tim Shephard since the night at the movies when Johnny and I had nearly killed Bob. I wondered if he was even still around, but Dally had told me that Tim had looked for me, probably as a favor to Dal. I don't know why Dallas had wanted to find me, but I sure was grateful. It was kind of good to be back in Tulsa, even if I couldn't stay long. Buck nodded, hands up as he took a step back, and left me on the porch.

Dally came to the door a minute later, lifting a startled eyebrow at me. I knew _he_ could tell I had been crying, and that the cut was new...it was still seeping blood, even though I'd gotten it almost two hours ago. He had to know I wouldn't be crying in front of him unless it was bad. It was bad. "Come on in, kid." He told me, jerking his head sideway and having me follow him inside. I did, sniffing a little and trying to hide it. He led me up the stairs to his room, which I'd never entered before and he shut the door behind us. Darry and Soda hadn't wanted me coming here. Just thinking of my brothers made me want to cry again, so I sat down on his bed, dropping my head in my hands and sniffling, the tough act gone now that it was just me and him. Heck, Dally knew I wasn't tough.

"What's going on, kid?" He asked quietly, pulling up an old folding chair and sitting across from me, holding out a clean rag that I pressed to my face, wincing a bit. "What the hell happened to you?" I didn't want to answer that. If I had a choice, I'd never answer that...but I doubted I'd have a choice. Dally always got what he wanted.

"I need your help, Dal." My voice sounded weak and strangled, even to me, and I tried not to start crying again like I had on the bus ride over. "You gotta help me. I gotta get out." I didn't know how long I had until the asshole and his buddies came looking for me here. I figured they were still looking around the town, but they hadn't known I'd have change for the bus, or that the last ones ran this late, apparently. I'd been lucky to lose them on the streets, and I'd run for what felt like an hour before chancing to stop long enough to catch a bus.

"Calm down." He told me sternly, his voice not to be argued with. I remembered that voice. I'd _missed_ that voice. "Tell me what happened, kid."

"I can't." I whispered, meeting his eyes with my own desperate ones. I could feel hot water dripping down my cheek, stinging the cut, but I didn't care. Pain was relative these days. "I can't. I just...I gotta get away. Far away. Please. Please help me." I was shaking like a leaf, my throat tight as I cried, and he watched me for a minute before standing, reaching into a pile of clothes and tossing me a jacket. I put it on gratefully, even though it dwarfed me. I really was skinnier than before.

"Who'd you piss off, kid?" He asked, looking ready to fight. I knew he would. If it was just that man, Dally could take him. The asshole was a big coward, beating on kids that didn't dare fight back...except for Li. She'd fought hard, and look where she'd ended up. No, it was his friends who were dangerous. They were connected, better than Tim even, with buddies everywhere from the police department to the seediest bars in town. I couldn't answer him though. I wouldn't risk him getting killed too. "How long you need to hide?" He asked when it was apparent I wasn't going to answer.

I thought for a minute, then sighed, wiping at my eyes. "Till I'm eighteen, I guess." When the social worker was out of the picture, I could go back to my brothers and try to explain...maybe the gang would be able to protect me. Or maybe he'd have forgotten about me by then. Until then, the State had the authority to send me back to the foster parents who got glowing reviews from the community for taking in so many troubled, violence-prone youths. The others sure weren't going to vouch for me...they knew the score. Dal nodded, jaw tight as he watched me. I wondered if he thought I looked like Johnny with a new black eye and a cut on my face. My knuckles were bleeding too...I hadn't noticed. I suppose the bus driver had, but he hadn't seemed to care.

"Pull your sleeves up." He suddenly demanded, standing over me.

"Why?" I asked, startled and unwilling to cooperate. I should have known better. I'd been wearing them the last time he'd seen me too. I was copying Johnny's favorite trick. Long sleeves hide everything, but it was almost June and hot, so there was really only one reason I'd be wearing them.

"Cause I said so, that's why!" He snapped, reaching down and grabbing my wrist. I didn't bother fighting him as he pulled up my sleeve and exposed long rows of cigarette burns and old and new bruises. He swore loudly, holding my wrist up like a display and shaking his head, then lowering his voice. "If you just show the social worker this…"

"I did!" I finally snapped, jerking away, ashamed that I was crying again. He frowned at that, sitting in the chair again, his elbows on his knees as he looked closely at me, letting me have my arm back. When he spoke, his voice was almost gentle.

"You showed them _that?_ They're using you as an ashtray kid. That's gotta be abuse. Even I know that."

"He's sleeping with her." I whispered, closing my eyes. "I took the bus to her office to show her...and she called him and told him what I'd said. Then she drove me back. He was waiting…told me if I ever did something stupid like that again, he'd kill me."

"We ain't gonna let that happen." His voice was cold and fierce, outrage dripping from his words. "I'll get Tim and his gang to teach him a lesson...your brothers won't put up with this shit, and you know it. We'll have those assholes arrested." It was a bleak day when Dallas Winston was talking about going to the fuzz.

"He's got friends everywhere, Dal. The police love him. We can't fight them. I ain't got a choice...I gotta get out." I made my voice soft, hoping he'd believe me.

"Your brother will _kill_ me if he finds out. You know that right? He's finally got a court date." That made my eyes hot again, and I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, hoping to stop that before it started.

"Dal." I was whispering now, my voice tight. "If I don't get away from here...far away, I won't _make it_ to the court date." I looked him straight in the eye, hoping he got it.

"All this ain't about just being his foster kid and pissing him off." He spoke just as quiet, his voice hard. "What happened? What did you see?" Dally wasn't dumb, I'd give him that. I had to tell him.

"He killed her." I finally whispered, my face crumpling. "Lianne. They took her out...out behind the bar." I sobbed, my breaths coming in harsh gasps as I tried to get the words out. "They...I gotta get out. They saw me...they know that I know. I almost didn't get away...they had me. He ain't gonna let me live." I knew what I was doing. By telling him, I was getting him involved in this. It was a shitty thing to do, but I didn't have anywhere else to turn. "He was gonna say she ran away...but I saw…" A hand landed on my shoulder while I cried, and I knew it was the best comfort Dally was capable of giving. I appreciated it nonetheless. Still, I missed Sodapop and Darry something fierce.

I'd been hiding out behind the bar, desperate to get away from the asshole and away from that house. I usually found myself hanging around the bar about a mile away from the high school I went to now, a spot I hadn't seen him at yet. No one bugged me, so I would take my books there sometimes and sit around out back until it was too dark to read, my switchblade in my back pocket. That afternoon at the house, the asshole had caught me smoking on the porch and I had a fresh burn on my forearm. He'd left me on the floor of the bedroom I shared with two other guys, and I'd grabbed the cards I'd made for my brothers and my switch, hurrying out the door before he came back for me.

At the bar, I'd hung around until it was dark, sneaking in and ordering a coke I paid for with change I'd stolen from the asshole's pants pocket. I didn't dare ask for anything stronger. The last thing I needed was attention. That asshole had friends everywhere, even if I hadn't seen him in this bar, I knew he hung out in the rougher ones. He'd brought bartenders and thugs and police officers alike into the house for dinner, and they all looked at his foster kids suspiciously, telling him he was a better man than they were...they'd never take someone else's juvenile delinquent kid under their roof. So I kept away from the house as often as I could, but yesterday, I'd seen him and a few buddies, at least one a police officer, and Lianne all pull up in three cars that parked out behind the bar, almost too far for me to realize who they were until I'd heard her start screaming. They'd already dug a hole out there. And while bar itself was packed by that hour, there were no windows on the back wall, and I'd been alone, sitting under the dim lights mounted by the back door.

After a long minute, Dally stood, grabbing something from his table. I didn't look up. I was crying too hard, and I was ashamed of that. I wasn't tough like my brothers or the gang...heck, Li had been tougher than me. She'd fought to the end...up until he'd pulled out that knife. Sick, monster, asshole. I hated him. But I'd been a coward. I'd stayed hidden beside the bar, not stepping forward until it was too late. I couldn't forgive myself for that.

"Here." I didn't move. "Kid! Take this." He ordered, pushing something into my hands. I looked down to find a piece of paper with something he'd just scribbled. "Stay here. I gotta go get something." And then he'd been gone, shutting the door behind him. I didn't bother reading the paper in my hand. Whatever it was, I was sure Darry would explain soon enough. For now, I just dropped my head into my hands, the paper balanced on my leg, and wished my brothers were with me.

 **Thank you so much for reading!**


	2. Discovery

**_Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed :) I hope you enjoy the new chapter!_**

 _Discovery_

According to the alarm clock, it was seven am when the knocking at our door jolted me awake. I was barely awake...groaning and rolling over, I went to throw my arm around Ponyboy, but was met only with the cold blankets. For a moment, I felt a pit in my stomach...it happened every morning. Every morning I woke, throwing my arm over the empty space where my brother was supposed to be, or reaching up to shake him awake, or mumbling his name, hoping to wake him up. Every morning, for a few seconds, I wondered where my brother was. Then, when I remembered, I wondered if he was okay. If he missed me. I knew he did. I missed him. Every single day I wanted my little brother back.

It had been eight months now…eight months of talking to social workers and judges and trying to get court hearings that led to more talk with social workers that wouldn't do anything for us and home visits and more and more nights without my kid brother sleeping beside me. I missed him. It was like my heart was missing...it wasn't right. It hadn't been the kid's fault that those socs had tried to kill him. It wasn't Johnny's fault that the only way to save Pony was to stab one of them. Thankfully Bob hadn't died, and since they had all been fighting and since the socs were drunk, no one was charged with anything...somehow. Even though they'd almost killed my little brother.

It had started with the fight. Pony out too late, and Darry worrying himself to death. He did that a lot...worried and yelled and snapped at our brother, mostly because Pony always had his head in the clouds or his nose in some book. It was just how he was. Darry didn't know how to deal with it, and Pony thought that meant he hated him. I tried to assure him that Darry loved him...that he was just worried and stressed...I don't think it did much good. So when Ponyboy came home late, Darry started yelling and Pony yelled right back. Darry had a point...he really should have called. But I could have gotten that across without yelling, and I knew Darry could have too. I'd seen Ponyboy getting upset, and I'd jumped in, trying to tell Darry that we could all talk about it in the morning when he'd yelled at me.

That had set Pony off faster than anything, and he'd shouted at Darry, telling him not to yell at me, which is when Darry had wheeled around and slapped him, the noise of his hand on our brother's face seeming to echo throughout the otherwise silent house. Of course Darry had been sorry...he'd never hurt Pony on purpose, but Pony had been out the door, scrambling to get away before Darry could do more than call him back, yelling that he was sorry. Not that it mattered. He'd turned to me then, looking hopeless and scared, but I'd just been mad. "I didn't mean to." He'd told me softly, hands limp at his side, but I hadn't much cared how he felt about it.

"He already thinks you hate him!" I'd exploded, not caring when he flinched, his eyes struggling to meet mine. "Thinks you want to send him off to a boy's home...what the hell's wrong with you?"

"I didn't mean…"

"Save it." I'd snapped, slipping past him and slamming the door to the room I shared with Pony. I didn't know if I should go after him or wait. Surely if he came back, he wouldn't want to talk to Darry. Or maybe he was scared of Darry...scared he'd hit him again. Maybe he wouldn't come back. So I'd decided to wait for an hour or two, then go out and find him. I figured if he didn't want to see Darry, we'd crash at Two-Bit's or even Dally's if we had to.

About an hour later, the front door had been thrown open, the door slamming itnto the wall, and I'd jumped out from where I'd been half dozing in our bed, hurrying out to the living room to find Pony and Johnny panting, their eyes wide and panicked. My little brother had been soaked, his whole body shaking as he stood there, looking at me but not seeming to see me. Swearing as if pulled from a trance, Darry had jumped up, reaching out to grab Pony's shoulders, and our brother had jerked back, giving him a suspicious look. Paling a little, Darry had dropped his hands. "You're soaking wet." Hesitantly, he'd put a hand on our kid brother's head, apparently trying again.

This time, Pony hadn't flinched away, just staring up at Darry like he didn't understand. He had a nasty bruise on his face, and his lip was bleeding, but he didn't seem to notice. "Soda, get a towel!" Darry had ordered, leading Pony over to the sofa. Unresisting, he had followed. "What happened?" Darry had demanded, no time to talk about the fight that had driven Ponyboy out to begin with. "Kiddo, talk to me! Are you okay?" He'd asked, pushing Pony's hair back. Still our brother hadn't answered, shaking and dripping on the carpet, his lips almost blue.

"They were drowning him…in the fountain at the park!" Johnny had cried, breathless, as I'd returned with a towel, wrapping it around my brother's shoulders and pulling him away from Darry and into my arms. I had still been still upset with Darry then…it was petty but I wanted to be the one to comfort him. Pony hadn't said anything though, looking up at me with wide, frightened eyes while I'd wrapped the towel around him and drying his hair.

"Who?" Darry had demanded. It had reminded me of the first time some kids at school had tried messing with Ponyboy. Our brother had only been eight or nine…Darry fifteen when Ponyboy had come home crying with a black eye. Darry had jumped up from the table where he'd been doing his homework, letting Pony put his arm around him. "Who was it, Pony?" He'd demanded, arms tight around our brother. Through his tears, Ponyboy had managed to name the guys, and boy, had Darry taken care of it.

"Those socs…from earlier…" Johnny had tried to explain. He'd been crying too, it seemed, but all I could focus on was my little brother. Later, Darry and I had gotten the full story about the socs out of Two-Bit, but at the moment, neither of us had cared much what Johnny was saying.

"Glory, Pony. Twice in one day, huh?" I'd asked, forcing a light smile and tilting his head, wincing at the nasty looking bruise on his cheek and the split in the middle of his swollen lower lip. Our brother still hadn't said anything, and I'd pulled him into a hug, thinking he was just scared. This hadn't been like earlier…before had been bad enough, sure. This was different. This wasn't playing around, roughing up some greaser. This was them trying to drown my little brother. I knew the gang would have to get together…we would rumble over something like this. At the moment, however, I'd just wanted to comfort my little brother. "It's alright, kiddo. You'd better go take a shower and warm up, okay?" Pony and Johnny had shared a long desperate look over my shoulder, and Darry had caught on first, stepping in.

"What? What happened?" He'd asked, putting a hand on Johnny's shoulder. Pony had just stared at him, pale and wide eyed, and he'd turned to Johnny, seeming to give up on getting anything from Ponyboy.

"There were five of 'em. I couldn't fight them all." Johnny had explained, his voice high and cracking. "I…I stabbed him. I stabbed Bob. I had to! They were killing him! Then I grabbed Pony and we ran…I don't know if he…" And Johnny had trailed off, Darry's arm around firmly around his shoulder. I hadn't been able to get a word out of my kid brother the rest of the night, but I had finally gotten him into a shower and into bed where he'd curled up on his side, arms around himself. I'd thrown an arm around him, hoping he would say something about what had happened. He hadn't said a word, but he had scooted closer to me, gripping my hand and breathing deeply until he finally fell asleep.

The next day the cops had come by to talk to Johnny and Pony, and informed them that Bob Sheldon was not dead...that the wound hadn't been critical. Both had almost cried in relief. Still, I couldn't get a word out of Pony about what had happened. The guys had all come over the next day to get the whole story, but neither Pony nor Johnny wanted to give us any details, clamming up when I tried to ask about it. Darry hadn't bothered...he barely spoke to Pony after what he'd done. Then the social workers had come.

Everyone had been at the house that Sunday morning, sitting around the living room and watching Mickey Mouse, as Two-Bit had taken charge of the TV and no one had felt like fighting about it. Pony had been running a fever, which made Darry nervous. None of us had talked about the fact that Dar had hit him..Pony hadn't wanted to talk about it, and Darry wouldn't bring it up. That night, I'd asked Ponyboy if he wanted to talk about it...about Darry. He'd just shaken his head, his back still to me.

That morning, Pony had been on the couch next to Johnny, my little brother had been wrapped in a blanket, coughing every once in awhile, but nothing too bad. Those two would just look at each other sometimes and seem to talk...they had the weirdest relationship. I barely ever saw them actually open their mouths, but they had a friendship as close as mine and Steve's. Darry walked by our little brother and me, reaching over and putting his hand on Pony's forehead, and Pony gave him a half smile, knocking his hand away. "I'm fine, Darry." He'd told him simply, and Darry had ruffled his hair, nodding but shooting me a look. I'd assumed his fever had gone up. Still, it was the closest thing they'd had to a conversation since their fight.

Then the knock had come, and everyone had looked at the door, Pony a second behind the rest of us. I'd thought about telling Darry we ought to send him back to bed, even though he'd spent all of the previous day in bed with Darry hovering worriedly, despite the kid's protests that he was okay. His fever hadn't gotten high...I knew Darry just felt guilty.

I still don't know exactly what the social worker said to Darry, but I'd watched my brother pale, and Steve had kicked Two-Bit, making him turn off the TV. Almost subconsciously I had moved closer to my brother who was sandwiched between me and Johnny. He'd been looking at me, worried, and I'd put an arm around him.

"Probably nothing." I'd mumbled, squeezing him in a hug. I'd been about to tell Two-Bit to turn the TV back on when Darry's voice had gotten louder.

"You can't do this. Please...please don't do this." Our brother had stepped back, shaking his head. "Please...he doesn't feel good today. Let us talk to our usual social worker." His desperate voice had even gotten Dally's attention, and he'd leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes hard. Darry didn't beg anyone...for anything. Except that night...he'd begged Ponyboy to come back.

"Mr. Curtis, it had been decided that this is no longer the best placement for your youngest brother." I was just a few months short of eighteen…okay, almost fifteen months, but still...why didn't they take me too, I'd thought desperately, squeezing Pony tight. He had been watching Darry with deer-in-the-headlight eyes, head swiveling back and forth between him and me. I needed to be with my brother. Pony needed _me!_ "You are welcome to contest this decision in court after the six months." Darry had turned red with fury, hands clenched.

"Six months? What do you mean, _six months!?"_ He'd cried, fists tight at his sides, face turning red. I, on the other hand, felt like the blood had all rushed out of me. I'd sagged, gripping Ponyboy as though I was about to fight someone for him.

"The court has decided…"

"We haven't been to court!"

"…that it would be best for all parties involved if there was a separation for a few months…once that trial period is over, you will be welcome to contest this decision in court." I had thought I was going to pass out…I'd been sure of it.

"You're damn right I'm gonna contest this! You can't do this! He's my brother!" He had been shaking so hard, I had been sure _he_ was gonna pass out...or _knock_ someone out. The others hadn't been faring much better, watching with horror and fury as the men had walked up to my brother and me. I'd been ready to fight, and Pony had shaken his head.

"No." He'd told them sharply, cowering back against the sofa. They'd started to reach for him, but he'd recoiled and Darry had taken a step forward, eyes blazing. He didn't speak, but both social workers had drawn back. I had been ready to kill someone. Every member of our gang had shifted just a bit, eyes dark as they'd watched this play out, taking their cues from me and Dar.

The social worker was gentler with my brother, but not by much. "Your brother no longer has custody over you. We believe it will be in your best interest to be placed in another home, at least temporarily. We need you go pack, and then come with us." Pony had kept shaking his head, still holding onto me.

"I ain't going with you." He'd snarled, showing teeth and ready to fight, but I had known how _that_ would turn out. He would lose. We would all lose. Because Pony didn't have a choice, and even if we killed those socials workers, more would come...like roaches. I was crying...I'd realized it when I'd met Steve's eyes and he'd looked at me with a clenched jaw and a crumpled brow. He didn't want us to lose Pony anymore than the other guys, even if he did pick on my brother. He wouldn't let anybody hurt Pony, and he looked out for him at school and around town…he watched after him.

"Please...please let us talk to our social worker." I'd choked out, gripping my little brother tight. I still don't know why we'd suddenly gotten a new social worker. Ponyboy had been so scared...more scared than I'd seen him, the fury and hatred in his eyes barely covering it. He was like one of those dogs caught in a trap...he'd looked like he had been about to chew his own leg off to get out of there.

"We can work this out with her." Darry had put in, back to hoping. "Please. Just give us a chance…a couple of days..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Curtis, but Ponyboy has to come with us. Today. Like we said, you are welcome to speak to your social worker later today and get this worked out. Son, we'd like to do this the easy way." The taller guy had been the only one to open his mouth, but the other guy had had a pretty good build, so I'd assumed he was 'the hard way.'

Pony had looked at all of us then, trapped and wild-eyed...until he'd met Dally's eyes. Dal had a way of telling you something with just his eyes, and I don't know what he said to Pony, but my brother had slumped a bit after making eye contact with him, pulling himself to his feet and going into our room. Dropping my head into my hands, I'd just sobbed, almost unable to breathe with how hard I was bawling. Steve had moved over to my side, his hand on my shoulder, and Two-Bit had stood, standing over me and glaring at the social workers.

By the door, Dary hadn't moved an inch, his fists so tight I thought they might break. Johnny had wrapped his arms tight around himself glaring at the carpet and trying to sink as far into the sofa as he could get. He didn't like cops or social workers, and I knew he felt bad about this. Heck, none of us blamed him...we still don't. Only Dally, outwardly, had appeared unaffected, as though this was simply an annoying interruption in his day. I'd known better. It was the reason Dar and I had never had a problem with Pony hanging out with Dally...Dal cared about my little brother, as much as Dal could care about anyone. Pony and Johnny were as much his little brothers as they were his buddies, and he looked out for them.

When Pony had come out of his room that morning, a duffle bag barely half full of stuff on his shoulder, I'd been unable to stop bawling even as I'd jumped up, grabbing him and holding him too tight. "I love you, kiddo. You hear me. This ain't for long. We're gonna get you back." He'd nodded, holding me just as tight and sniffling a bit. I had hoped the social workers had seen what they were doing...that they were taking away a kid we loved. I'd stroked his hair, rocking us back and forth in the middle of our living room, our friends looking on with either concern or fury.

"Love you too, Soda." He'd whispered, and I'd pulled back just enough to look at him.

"I'll see you soon, you dig? I promise." He'd nodded, jerking away when one of the social workers had made to grab his arm. I'd glared at them as best I could through my tears, then had dropped back onto the sofa next to Steve who'd put his hand on my back, not knowing that it would be impossible to keep that promise.

"This ain't right." Steve had told me, his voice cold and loud enough for the social workers to hear. "You hear me? It ain't right! They love that kid!" He'd glared daggers at two men who had ignored him.

Glancing up, I'd watched Pony walk toward Darry who'd looked at him with such pain and guilt...Darry would blame himself for this forever. I had been sure of that. They hadn't said anything...Darry had just put a hand on Pony's shoulder, then letting it drop as the social workers had urged my little brother forward. Then he'd seemed to snap out of it, reaching out and grabbing Pony, pulling our brother into his arms. Pony had returned the hug, clinging to Darry and crying into his shoulder for a long time. "I ain't gonna let this happen, Pony. We're gonna get you back, you hear me, kiddo?" Our oldest brother had all but sobbed, rocking Pony just like I had.

Pony had nodded, but when we'd all turned to watch him walk out to the car from the window, I'd seen his eyes. They had been flat and miserable as he'd jerked away from the social worker once more, dropping into the back of the car and disappearing. It had been the last time I'd seen my little brother.

The knocking continued, and I groaned again, putting my feet on the ground, trying to put Ponyboy in the back of my mind. He was always there, the way he'd smile up at me, laughing about something, or how he acted when I pulled him away from a book, taking a minute to get back to the real world with the rest of us. How he wanted to come with us to the races...how I'd let Steve tell him no so many times. That smarted, and I tried to push that one back. I swore, when I got my brother back, we'd go to the races, just me and him. I missed him so much.

Darry stood at the door, rubbing his eyes and staring at the cop on our doorstep. Coming up behind him, I crossed my arms, glancing between them. "Can we help you?" He asked, glancing at me with lifted eyebrows. I shook my head, serious. I hadn't done anything to get in trouble...not since they'd taken Pony. I wasn't taking any chances on not getting him back.

"Darrel and Sodapop Curtis?" The cop asked. He was a short guy, a bit pudgy with ruddy red cheeks, and he resembled the quaker oatmeal man with shorter hair, but he also had a gun on his hip, so I wasn't gonna make any comments. I didn't feel like cracking up much these days anyway.

"Yes." Darry answered.

"My name is Officer Charlton. I need to ask you some questions about your younger brother."

"Ponyboy!" I butted in, stepping closer. "Is he okay?" I knew it was harder for Darry...he hadn't even gotten to talk to Pony since they'd taken him...some rule they had at that place, even after moving him in with a foster family. We hadn't been given any kind of real updates on him, but he'd sounded rough when he'd called me. I knew he wasn't taking this well. I was anxious for the court date that my brother had _finally_ gotten to come. At least then we'd be able to see him.

The cop shifted, uncomfortable. "We...we are not sure at the moment. I'd like to speak to you inside, if that would be alright." Darry nodded instantly, stepping aside and ushering him in. Once coffee was declined and we all sat down in the living room, with Darry and me on the couch and the cop in a chair across from us, Darry spoke up again.

"What do you mean, you're not sure if my little brother's okay?" He asked softly.

"Ponyboy Curtis was moved to a foster home roughly four months ago. His foster family came forward yesterday claiming that he had not come home after school. However, the school record shows that he was not in classes at all yesterday, and the last time anyone saw him was Monday morning...yesterday morning, when his foster brothers claim to have seen him leave the house."

Foster brothers. Ponyboy had 'foster brothers' now. They weren't his brothers though. Were they nice to him? Older or younger? Did they mess with him? Try to hurt him? I'd heard stories about these places...I had so many questions, but Officer Charlton wouldn't be able to answer any of them.

"You don't know where my brother is? His foster family...lost him?" Darry was being real quiet, and I knew it was only a matter of minutes before he blew up. Heck, I wanted to blow up too.

"We believe he may have run away, which is why we are asking you to keep an eye out for him."

"So what? You can send him back to the people he ran away from?"

"It's not uncommon for foster children to run away to return to their families. However, they have custody over him at the moment." The cop told my brother and me patiently. "We always check with the family first."

"I haven't seen my brother in almost a year. They changed our social worker without informing us. They took him away without any warning. It was six months before I was even able to _talk_ to someone with any authority, and even then they gave me the runaround for almost two months." Darry leaned forward, hands clenched into fists before he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I want to speak to his foster parents." He demanded, leaning in with clenched fists. The cop shook his head.

"I'll see what I can do, but it may not be possible."

"I haven't seen my little brother in _eight months_. I finally get a court date, and he goes missing!" He reiterated, barely controlling his voice.

"I am sorry, Mr. Curtis." The cop genuinely looked it as he regarded us. "We believe that Ponyboy left sometime around six a.m. on Monday morning. His two foster brothers confirmed this. They asked if he wanted a ride, but he said he had to get to school early. Both of his foster parents were at work at the time."

"There's only three?" I couldn't help asking, my voice soft, my hands tight in my lap. I wasn't even a little tired anymore. "Three kids there in the foster home?"

"No." Officer Charlton told me, somewhat warily. "There are also two girls." He took a deep breath. "We spoke to the oldest girl as well, but she hasn't seen him. It appears his thirteen year old foster sister was not in school yesterday either." He hesitated, watching us closely for a minute. "She is also missing at the moment."

"So two kids ran away from the people _you_ sent my brother to live with. At the same time?"

"Mr. Curtis, I had nothing to do with taking your little brother away, nor did I have anything to do with his foster home placement. I can assure you, all I want is for these children to be found." I didn't say anything, and for a long moment, Darry was quiet too. Then he nodded.

"Of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, putting a hand on my shoulder and sitting back. "Like I said, we haven't seen him. We've been working for months to get a court date so we can get custody again…heck, just to visit him." I still couldn't believe it had been so long since I'd seen my brother, but I kept my mouth shut, afraid I'd start yelling at the cop. It really wasn't his fault, but I thought of my brother, completely alone out there somewhere, and wanted to hit something. Considering how close Officer Charlton was, it would probably be him. That was trouble we didn't need.

"Keep an eye out. Talk to your friends...see if anyone has seen him. He's probably just hiding out…" The cop hesitated. "If you do find him, it's important to notify us right away. It will only hurt your case if you don't comply."

"Of course." Darry told him coldly. "We haven't seen him in almost nine months and we'll just call right up as soon as we see him."

"Eight months?" He asked suddenly. Darry nodded. The officer narrowed his eyes. "Who is your social worker?" He asked, and Darry seemed a bit taken aback. Instead of angry, though, the cop looked kind of confused.

"Um...her name's Patty Jones. Works for the states...our old social worker, Theresa Marshal, hasn't returned any of my calls...they assigned Mrs. Jones to our case right before they took Ponyboy. Never told us why." He nodded slowly, staring down at our carpet. "Why?" Darry asked warily.

The cop shook his head, giving us a half smile. "No reason. I'll let you boys get back to your morning. When is your court date?"

"Next month." Darry told him, eyes downcast. It was so far away…but at least I'd been looking forward to seeing him…getting some kind of visitation at least. Maybe even taking him home. Now…now he was missing.

"I suppose the courts are busy with custody cases...eight months...you still don't have any kind of visitation rights?" He confirmed. Darry shook his head, but I answered.

"He isn't even allowed to call us." I told him shortly.

For a moment, he was quiet, staring at our carpet once more. At least it was clean. "You've got a court date in a month." He told us softly. "He should have been notified of that. It's possible he just took off for a couple of days...maybe he's hanging out around here somewhere. We're going to keep looking though. Keep an eye out." He told us softly, then wished us a good day before heading out.

"Darry…" I spoke as soon as the front door shut, and Darry put a hand on my shoulder.

"He's fine, Sodapop." He wasn't looking at me though…just staring straight ahead.

"What if he ain't? Why would he run off? What would make him just run away?" My mouth was dry as I asked this, my hands trembling. "He sounded bad on the phone…at the foster home. What if those people…"

"Soda, it ain't gonna do us any good to worry about that right now. Right now, we need to call everybody and tell them to keep an eye out...maybe get Tim on it too. You know he's got a wider range." I knew he was worrying though….he always worried. It was what had started all this...he always worried.

Nodding, I watched him grab the phone and dial Tim's number. Figuring I'd talk to the gang, or at least some of them, in person, I headed to mine and Pony's bedroom to get dressed. I wanted to get started as early as possible.

 **Thanks for reading! :)**


	3. Help

**_Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed! I really appreciate it :)_**

 _Help_

About three months ago, I'd finally found the kid. Well... _I_ hadn't. Tim's buddy had. I had gone riding around several times, trying to find him when he was in that boy's home, but there were just too many options, and the fences didn't help. Guards looked at you funny if you loitered, and you couldn't just go in and ask for kids by name. If you looked up 'boys home' in the phone book, you got a dozen results, and that was just in our city. Widen your search to surrounding areas and you were looking for a needle in a haystack. A redheaded, fourteen year old little needle in a giant, state-sized haystack. The kid would be proud of that metaphor, I was sure.

I'd gone to Tim right after they'd taken the kid, ready to ask for a favor. I hadn't been able to stand staying in that house…not with Soda crying on Steve and Darry in that recliner, just staring at nothing. Johnny, head in his hands, had been leaning on Two-Bit who'd dropped onto the sofa with him. They'd all acted like the kid was dying! That kid wasn't dying. Not then and not now.

Tim had been way ahead of me somehow; already shaking his head by the time I'd reached his house. "Yeah, I heard they took the kid." He'd been sitting on his porch, smoking a cigarette, his feet propped up on the rail. I didn't bother asking _how_ he found out. "There ain't no way to find 'em unless they put him in a foster home. Those boys' homes are locked up tighter than a jail." And he'd been right. Of course I'd still cruised around, just in case. Then three months after being taken away, he'd been moved to a foster home, something Soda had only found out because the kid had found a way to call him.

I'd known when Soda had been telling Darry about the kid and how he'd sounded on the phone that things weren't good. It had taken a while to find him, even though I had asked Tim to put everyone on it. Tim didn't owe me anything, but he liked Darry and Soda, and Curly and Pony had been...well, not friends but something, and he didn't want the kid getting lost in the system like some other kids he'd known. Besides, Ponyboy wasn't like the rest of us. It drove me nuts sometimes, cause even though he was a good fighter for a scrawny kid, he usually had his head in the clouds, like the day he'd gotten jumped. Well, the first time. Regardless, the kid was tough, but he wasn't street smart and he didn't have it in him to be mean, so if something was going on in whatever hellhole they'd put him in, I couldn't guarantee that he'd tell anyone.

When I'd finally gotten the kid's address, I'd gone the next day to the town several miles west of us, hanging around the school parking lot and ignoring the mildly curious stares until the kid had walked out. At first glance, I hadn't really recognized him. He'd been wearing a long sleeved shirt even though it was hot out, and the way he'd _looked_ at me...like I was gonna rescue him or something. I'd been afraid he was gonna hug me or something, and then I'd have had to shove him off and yell at him, and glory, it didn't look like it would take much to knock the kid off his feet. He'd been too pale, eyes dull and barely focused, but he'd been happy to see me. I'd wanted to get him to eat something, but I knew from experience that he'd be sick if he hadn't been eating in a while. So I just took him to his foster house.

Then that girl had come out, her black eye matching Pony's and I'd known. Of course, I'd known before, but now I _really_ knew. And the way she warned him to get inside...that asshole was beating on the kid, and her too...even though she wasn't my problem, she was still just a kid. I had to know, though, why he wasn't telling anyone. Surely he could talk to a social worker...I'd given him a buck to get himself some food, then I'd left and gotten Tim, explaining the situation. After finding out that Darry and Soda's little brother had been taken away only to find himself in a house where he got beat up on the regular, he'd been all too happy to help find out who this guy was.

The answer to 'who was the asshole beating on Darry and Soda's little brother' was Richard Norton and his wife, Tammy. That had been the easy part. But a few weeks of hanging around the seedier parts of town and we'd found out the important stuff...like the fact that he'd grown up with half of their police force and was buddies with most of the hoods around town too. There were also some rumors that he had been sticking it to, or rather, in, some social worker. I would have bet my whole paycheck that the social worker was Ponyboy's new one, a lady that made it almost impossible for Darry to reach her, and boy had he been trying. She had always been out of the office though, and now I knew what 'out of the office' meant.

I never told his brothers. I didn't know what good it would do. The kid has asked me not to, anyway, so I kept my trap shut, as did Tim, even if I did borrow a car every other week or so and drive around their neighborhood, keeping an eye out. I'd only seen Ponyboy once, standing out on the porch in the early evening, not looking my way. He'd looked even worse than before, with a bruise forming on his cheek, his wrist held close to his chest like it was sprained or something. I figured it probably was. The kid was getting skinnier and skinnier and he wasn't looking too good. I hoped that Darry got a court date soon. And then he had.

I'd planned on going back to his school to give him a ride home and give him the good news, as soon as I could borrow a car. I even wanted to take Johnny with me. Johnny was in the dark as much as Darry and Soda, but Ponyboy was his best friend and I knew they missed each other. And then Buck had started beating on my door, telling me Tim had sent some kid to talk to me. It was only four in the morning, and I'd been hoping it wasn't something about the kid being hurt or something when I'd arrived at the door to find Ponyboy himself, his face cut open, his eyes red from crying.

Getting him inside as fast as I could and hoping no one else had seen him, I watched him sit on my bed, that cut on his face bleeding, him shaking from the cold, and I'd grabbed him a jacket. He told me what I already knew. This just confirmed it. The kid was in some deep shit and he needed to get out of town. I agreed with him there. But sending him alone...Darry was gonna kill me. I knocked on Buck's door, crossing my arms and glaring when he opened it. "I need money. A lot of it. Now." I snapped.

"What? Is this about the kid out…"

I leaned in, glaring and snarling at him as I grabbed his jacket. "There ain't no kid, you hear me? Never was. You say a word to anyone about him and I'll break your neck, savvy?" He nodded, going pale. He knew I wasn't kidding. "Good. Now I need money. Whatever you got. You know I'm good for it." It would take a toll on my paycheck, but I'd just hit Two-Bit up for stolen booze and cigarettes until I got another one. "A car too...and a gun."

Buck didn't ask any more questions, coming out of his room a moment later with a paper sack and pushing it into my arms. A second later, he held out his keys. "Twenty-five dollars. The gun's loaded. Fill up my tank on your way back."

"See you around, Buck." I told him, grabbing the bag and heading into my room once more. The kid still held the paper loosely in his fingers...he was still crying. I wanted to tell him it would be fine, but how the hell did I know that?

"Let's go, Pony. Pull it together. Now." I ordered sharply, knowing he would listen. He looked up, wiping his eyes and flinching when his hand hit that cut. It was a nasty one, deep and covering the entire side of his face. He'd have a hell of a scar, but where he was going, that probably wouldn't hurt his odds of surviving this. Kid was gonna need to look tough. Still, the shirt I'd given him hadn't done much to stop the bleeding. Grabbing an old first aid kit, I pulled a bottle of whiskey out from under my bed and dumped some on a clean shirt. "This is gonna hurt." I warned him, placing it against his face. He didn't cry out, just clenched his jaw a little and hissed. The last thing I needed was the kid dying from an infection. He was my problem now.

"Thanks, Dally." He mumbled when I pulled the rag away. It wasn't bleeding as bad, and I went over to my closet, grabbing an old duffel bag while he held the cloth to his face, trying to get his face to stop bleeding.

"I'm guessing you didn't bring any clothes." He shook his head and I grabbed some jeans and a couple of shirts that would probably fit him. Then I threw in some socks and underwear, swearing the kid was gonna pay me back for this one day. Darry and Soda too. The last thing I grabbed was the gun, ignoring the look he gave me when I dropped it in. Then I stuffed the paper sack inside, pulling out fifteen dollars and shoving a ten over to him. "I got twenty dollars. Keep ten on you and ten in here for now. Don't lose it, kid, or you're out of luck. It won't last too long, but you look old enough to get a job, and where you're going they won't ask too many questions." That was a stretch but I hoped it was true. I pocketed the five, figuring I'd use it to fill up the gas tank and get him some food on our way. He just stared at me, and I shoved the money into his hand. "Wallet. Put it away, kid. Wake up!" I ordered, and he did as I ordered, reaching back and shoving the money in his old leather wallet.

"Dally, where…"

"Not yet. Come on. Let's get moving. You can't stay here." He nodded slowly, standing stiffly and following me as we snuck down the stairs, past the half-asleep partiers. Moving quick, I unlocked Buck's old, beat up car, throwing his door open, then climbing in the driver's seat. He was moving slow...according to the cut on his face, he'd been in a fight before he'd gotten here. He was probably covered in bruises…hopefully, he hadn't broken anything. I sure couldn't afford a doctor. "I got a buddy up in New York. I went to jail for him once, so he owes me. You can stay with him for a while until we get this worked out. He's a jerk, but he won't hurt you." He wouldn't. I would make the consequences of laying a hand on this kid abundantly clear. Hell, I'd send him a snapshot of Darry.

"Dally you guys can't…"

"We're gonna get this worked out, kid." I told him sharply, glancing over at where he sat beside me in the car, and I turned the keys in the ignition, peeling out of the driveway. "We just gotta get you out of the way first." I meant it too. Tim had a big gang, and there had to be one cop in this place that would believe this. Maybe Ponyboy's old social worker. Then there were his brothers...we couldn't let them kill the guy...couldn't risk them going to jail. Not when the kid needed them. Still, that meant I would have to find a way to talk to Darry without letting him know I'd stashed the kid somewhere.

"You shouldn't…"

"Don't you start telling me what to do, ya hear?" Pony just nodded, not meeting my eyes. "That paper's his address and phone if it's still in service. I'm gonna try to call him, but if I can't get him, you just tell him Dallas Winston sent ya, and tell him to call me at Bucks if he doesn't believe you." I glanced over, but the kid was staring straight ahead, eyes wide and vacant. "My phone number's on there too. Kid, you with me?"

"She's buried out behind Jim's Bar. It's less than two miles away from the high school...they dug the hole before they took her there…"

"Kid you gotta stay with me."

"She was thirteen." I swore, pulling over to the side of the road and grabbed his shoulder. He turned to face me, crying again. He was going to have to cut that out.

"Ponyboy, these people don't mess around. I got it. And it's shit some thirteen-year-old girl had to die. But she ain't my problem right now. _Right now,_ I gotta try to keep a fourteen-year-old kid alive. Okay? Work with me!" He grinned at me then, lips turned up at the corners, but his eyes were still wet.

"I turned fifteen last month." He told me quietly, wiping at his eyes. "I wanted to call Soda and Darry...they won't let me use the phone though. He caught me the one time I tried…almost broke my wrist." I remembered him standing on the porch a week or so after I'd found him, holding his arm, and wondered if that had been the day he was talking about. "I was scared to try again. Stupid, huh? I got so scared to cross him…"

"Not stupid, kid. Smart. You were finally using that head of yours." I told him quietly, pulling back onto the road. "We'll all celebrate your birthday when we get you back to your brothers, okay? I'm sure they'll be ready to throw a party anyway."

"How are they?" He asked me quietly. I kept my eyes on the road, making sure to drive the speed limit. Couldn't risk getting pulled over right now.

"They're pretty broken up, kid. Darry's been calling the social workers every day, and Soda's a mess. Johnny too. Hell, even Steve misses you." I didn't tell him that Two-Bit was having a competition with himself, trying to see how much beer he could drink every night, or that Sandy had ditched Soda when she'd gotten pregnant by some other guy. Not right now. Kid had enough to deal with. Hell, so did I.

"Steve?" He asked dubiously. I snorted.

"He's probably just mad Soda's no fun anymore." Pony laughed at that, and I found that I was glad he wasn't crying anymore. Not that I cared...it was just getting annoying.

When we pulled up to the convenient store, I turned to him. "Stay here. Don't want anybody seeing you around here. Just stay in the car. I'm gonna call James." He nodded, and I hurried into the convenient store, nodding to the tired looking guy behind the register. No need to draw attention. He barely looked at me as I grabbed a sandwich, a couple of candy bars, a loaf of bread, and some baloney. In the back I found some bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, so I grabbed those too. The kid would need them. After I paid, I got change for the payphone.

No one answered when I called James's place, but that wasn't unusual. It was 2 am his time. I'd try again later. At least the phone was still in service. In the car, the kid was slouched low like he was asleep, but he sat up when I got back in, shoving the bag of food at him. "You hungry?" He shook his head. I shrugged. "There's a sandwich in there, and some bread and baloney if you do get hungry. It's a long trip, and you'll need to save your money. There's some stuff for your face too. You gotta blade?"

"Yeah, I brought it."

"Good. The gun in the bag is loaded. Try not to shoot yourself." He snorted at that. "You used to go hunting with your dad right? Darry told me you were the best shot." He shrugged.

"Yeah, but Darry always got the most ducks. Soda and I messed around most of the time." His voice got soft when he mentioned his brothers. I figured he probably never got any ducks because he didn't like shooting them. His chances of making it on his own were looking slim if he couldn't even kill a duck. Then again, he looked different now...tougher. I hoped that was true.

The bus ticket was almost fifteen dollars, and I pulled out two bucks from my own wallet, giving him everything except the last dollar, which I planned on using to fill up the car. In the end, he was left with twelve dollars. I didn't like it. Twelve dollars wouldn't get him too far, and he'd have to find a job fast, especially if James had gotten himself killed or something, which was likely. I'd have to figure out a way to get this guy before the kid ran out of money. That meant telling his brothers. How could I do that without implicating myself in his disappearance? Who knows?

I stayed at the bus station until his bus came, sitting beside the kid on a bench and keeping an eye on him. He was exhausted, eyes closing every couple of seconds as his head nodded. I wondered when the last time he had slept was and watched him lean back against the brick wall, eyes half shut. "It's almost a two day trip on the bus," I told him quietly, glaring at a hood that wandered by. The kid nodded, showing me he was following along. "Keep that bag beside you at all times. Against the window, if you can. Pull the blade on anyone that tries to take it, and keep that gun hidden. When you get to the bus station in New York, it's only a mile or two to James's place. I'll call him later today and tell him you're coming...see if I can get him to meet you there. If not…just call me at Buck's and I'll figure something out. His address is on that paper, and so's his phone number and mine.

"Thank you, Dal. Really." He mumbled, looking down at his lap. I looked around, then, rolling my eyes, I put my arm around his shoulder, ruffling his hair. He leaned into me, head dropping onto my shoulder. Sighing, I put my head on top of his, glad no one I knew was around. Otherwise, I'd have to throw the kid off.

"We're gonna get you back with your family, kid. Don't you worry." I told him quietly.

"Hey, Dal?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Can you give something to Soda and Darry?" I hesitated, sitting up and looking down at him. "Or if you can't just give it to 'em, can you mail it...make it look like I did? There's no return address anyway. Please?" I sighed, moving my arm and knocking him in the head, making him grin over at me, almost looking like the kid I knew again.

"Sure, kid." I grumbled, knowing I'd figure out how to get whatever it was to them. He handed me two envelopes, one with each of his brother's names, and I pocketed them, not bothering to ask what they were. Whatever it was, I'm sure they'd love it. They missed him so much. The whole house stank of it.

It wasn't long before the bus showed up, and we were crowded by other kids and a few socy looking guys waiting to get on. "Call when you get up there. Keep that bag on you..." He nodded, hands shoved in his pockets. "And kid?" He glanced up at me, eyes bloodshot but alert. He'd need to put something on that gash on his face if he didn't want it to get infected, but he knew that. He was a smart kid. "Be careful. I mean it. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks for this, Dally."

"Go on, kid." I pushed him toward the bus, and he grinned back at me once more, shouldering the bag and climbing the steps to the bus. Man, he looked small.

 **Thank you so much for reading**


	4. Phone Calls

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I appreciate it more than you know! Reviews make my day, and I try to answer all of them as soon as I can. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**_

 _Phone Calls_

I'd talked to my little brother three times since they took him away...every time at the DX. I guess he figured they wouldn't think to check the phone records there…or maybe that they couldn't prove it was him if he called a service station. I never asked  
him to explain it. I never had time. Every time he'd called, I'd been too worried to ask him anything like that…they hadn't exactly been long conversations anyway.

The first call had been two weeks after he'd disappeared in that car. Steve had answered the phone at the DX, leaning on the counter as he'd asked if he could help whoever it was. It was early…probably around ten am. He'd listened for a second, his eyes  
going wide. Then he'd paused, looked up at me, and gripping the phone, gesturing me over. "Kid? Ponyboy? Are you okay?" Apparently, there had been no answer as I'd sprinted over, practically knocking a display of chips onto the floor. "Hang on, Pony,  
okay? I'm getting Soda."

"Ponyboy!" I called, snatching the phone away from Steve who'd been in the process of handing it to me. My brother had been crying, and I'd almost started bawling too, leaning on the wall of the DX, hoping my boss didn't come by as Steve had hovered,  
keeping one eye on the front door in case a customer came in. "Hey, it's me Pone. It's okay. Are you alright?"

"I ain't supposed to be calling...I ain't allowed to use the phone." He'd whispered, his voice catching. "They don't let us…I mean...I ain't allowed to...until you get a court date."

I'd nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "We're gonna get a court date as soon as we can, Pony, I swear. Darry's calling every day. We're doing everything we can. You just sit tight, kiddo. How are you? Are you okay?"

"I wanna come home, Soda." He's all but whimpered it, sounding like he was ten again, and my heart broke. I'd wanted to tell him it would be okay. I'd wanted to tell him that we were going to take care of it, but honestly, Darry hadn't even been able  
to talk to anyone.

"I know, honey. I know...we're doing the best we can. Are you _okay,_ though?" I'd needed to hear him say it...that he was okay. Even if it was a lie.

"I gotta go." He'd told me suddenly after a pause. "A guard's coming." A guard, I'd thought, feeling sick. My little brother lived in a place with guards.

"Okay. I love you Pony. We…" Then he'd been gone. Dropping the phone on the receiver, I'd leaned against the wall, sinking down to sit on the floor, my hand covering my mouth as I'd fought to keep from crying, a losing battle if ever there was one. Steve  
had joined me on the floor, putting an arm around my shoulder silently until our boss had come by, reminding us that he didn't pay me to sit on the floor with my boyfriend. The rest of the day I'd been a wreck, useless at the register and unable to  
even fill up a car with gas. Then I'd gotten home and found Darry on the phone with the state, demanding to talk to our old social worker…or our new one…it was like all the social workers in the state had gone on vacation all at once.

He'd slammed the phone down, biting out a curse as I'd dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. "No luck?" I had asked wryly, my voice all but hoarse from the crying I'd done on and off all day. Real tough hood, that was me.

"Useless idiots! Why give me a phone number if they never answer it!?" He had snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. "We can't even call him! We have no idea where our little brother is, if he's okay…they won't let us talk to him…" He'd sighed,  
dropping his face in his hands.

"He called the DX today." I had whispered then. Darry had done a double take, dropping his hands and staring at me. "I guess he snuck and did it…he had to get off when a guard came." I'd choked out.

"How…is he…"

"He wants to come home. That's all he said." Then, "He was crying." Collapsing into a chair beside me, he'd placed a hand on my shoulder, closing his eyes and dropping his chin to his chest.

"This is my fault." I hadn't argued. Not that time. I couldn't even bring myself to try. At that moment, I'd agreed with him. He'd lost his temper and then they'd taken our little brother.

The next time I'd talked to him had been two and a half months later. This time, I'd answered the DX's phone with the usual spiel, ending with 'How can I help you?' My elbow had been propped on the counter, my bloodshot eyes on the back wall. Thankfully  
the store had been empty. Steve had taken over most of the repairs since they'd taken Pony…I couldn't focus on a car for longer than a few minutes. Heck, I couldn't focus on anything. I'd been up all night, my arms around the pillow beside me. I'd  
never been one for nightmares, but since they'd taken my little brother…well apparently I was prone to them too.

"Sodapop?" The hoarse voice had asked, sounding almost frightened.

"Yeah." I'd answered the strange sounding voice on the phone, confused as to who would be calling the DX to talk to me...then it had clicked, my heart clenching. "Pony? Ponyboy! Is that you?" It hadn't sounded like him. Not at all.

"Yeah." He'd sounded like he hadn't slept in days, voice dull and disconnected. I hadn't been able to tell if he was crying or sick. Both possibilities worried me.

"Golly, Pony! Are you alright! I haven't heard from you…"

"I ain't allowed to call." He'd reminded me in the same tone. "I'm going to a foster home tomorrow." Suddenly I'd worried that I was gonna throw up right there in the DX. They couldn't do this. Not now. Bad enough they'd locked him up in a boy's home...now  
they were going to send him away.

"Where?" I'd asked desperately. I'd kidnap him. We'd go on the road...anything but this. They weren't doing this to us! We could run away! I'd do anything if I could just see him again.

"Don't know." He'd answered, sounding listless. How could they do this? How could they take my little brother away, not even let us talk to him? Something was wrong with him! He wasn't okay.

"Pony, listen...the judge won't give us a court date...not for a few more months, but as soon as the six months is over we're…"

He'd cut in. "I gotta get off. I love you, Sodapop." For just a minute, he'd sounded like my little brother again...albeit, scared and worried...he'd sounded like he was saying goodbye.

"I love you too honey. We're gonna get you home, okay? Soon as we can. I promise."

"Tell Darry I love him too." And then he'd been gone. I'd been bawling so hard I'd had to leave the counter, dropping onto the floor and putting my head between my knees right in the stockroom, boxes of cigarette cartons digging into my back. That's where  
Steve had found me.

"Glory what's the matter!" He'd cried, crouching down in front of me. "Sodapop!"

"Pony called." I'd managed to tell Steve who'd paled a little.

"He okay?" He'd demanded, dropping to his knees. Things weren't the same with the gang...not without Pony. Even Steve knew it. "He ain't hurt or nothing, is he? Shit, Soda, say something!" I had shaken my head.

"They're putting him in a foster home, Steve." I'd whispered to my own shoes, not even able to look him in the eye.

"Shit." He'd mumbled, dropping to my side and patting my back.

At home, Darry had jumped from his recliner when he'd seen me, home early and too pale after Steve had ordered me to go home. It had been a Saturday so he'd been off. "Hey, what's wrong, Pepsi cola?" He'd asked, putting his hand on my shoulder. Steve  
had stayed at the DX, covering for me, so we'd been alone.

"Pony called...they're putting him in a foster home, Dar." He'd gone sheet white, jaw clenched and eyes desperate and narrow. He'd reminded me of Pony, how my little brother had looked when they'd taken him. Like an animal caught in a trap. "Said to tell  
you he loved you." Closing his eyes and pinching his nose, Darry had looked close to imploding. They hadn't even told us...just sent him off like...like he didn't have any family or anyone that loved him. Before I had been able to ask anything about  
the court date, he'd turned, his fist going straight through the drywall beside our front door.

The fist-sized hole was still there. No one ever bothered asking what had happened, especially after we'd given the gang the news. Asking Darry about our brother was dangerous these days. Once, about a month after Pony had been taken, Steve had tried  
to lighten the mood with a joke about Pony tagging along…I'd thought we'd have to take Steve to the dentist after the punch Darry had given him, not that I'd spoken to him for about a week either.

The last call had come six months to the day after they'd taken him. Darry had taken the day off, going down to the social services office in person to yell at those incompetent idiots. Six months. We were supposed to get a hearing after six months. I  
couldn't take off though…it was a Monday and Steve was in school, so I had been the only one manning the counter. The phone had rung, and I'd jumped to answer, hoping it was Darry with some good news. It wasn't.

"Sodapop?" I'd known immediately that it was Ponyboy, despite the fact that he had sounded like a stranger. He'd been whispering, sounding anxious and…afraid. He had been scared. I knew it, and I hadn't done anything, and now he was gone.

"Yeah, Pony. It's me." I'd whispered back, unsure why I was whispering too. Whatever was going on, he needed me. I'd known it...known it for a while. Something was going on, and I needed to find him...at least visit him! I hadn't seen my little brother  
in six months! We'd never been apart for so long. "Where are you, Pony? I'm gonna come find you, okay? I'm gonna…"

"It's been six months."

"I know, honey. Darry's at the social services office now, okay? He's gonna get this worked out. He's called every day, Pony."

"Please hurry, Soda." My blood had run cold, and I'd almost dropped the phone.

"Pony? Where are you? Is…how's that house? Are you in the same foster home?"

"Yeah." He'd mumbled.

"How are they treating you, kiddo? Is something going on?" He'd given a shuddering sigh, and I'd known he was crying on the other end of that phone. It had hurt…more than anything, it had hurt to know my little brother was crying somewhere and there was  
nothing I could do. "Honey? Hey, you can tell me." The promise sounded empty even to me. Even if something had happened, what could I do about it?

He'd taken a deep breath, seeming to collect himself. When he spoke, his voice had gone flat again. "No…everything's okay here, Soda." He'd whispered, and even as he had said it I'd known he was lying. "Just…I miss you guys a lot. Can you tell Darry…just…tell  
him hello for me? The guys too."

"Course I will, kiddo. He misses you an awful lot too, you know that, right? We all do."

"Yeah…"

"We're gonna get this sorted out as soon as we can, Pony." My little brother had been silent, and I'd continued haltingly. "Are you sure they're treating you alright, kiddo?" He'd hesitated for just a second.

"Yeah, Soda…they're alright. Just…I wanna come home."

"Tell me about them." I'd urged, desperate for information. "Where do…"

"Shit." He'd hissed suddenly, cutting me off. "I gotta go. I love you Soda."

"I lo…" And then the line had gone dead.

Now I stood outside Two-Bit's place, trying to manage a smile for his little sister who answered the door. "Hey Susan." I greeted the girl. She was about two years younger than Ponyboy…my little brother had turned fifteen without me. We hadn't celebrated  
my birthday or Darry's…it would just make it hurt more. Heck, neither of us had even really acknowledged our birthdays and the gang hadn't either. Then there had been Ponyboy's birthday...Steve had taken me out and for the first time ever I'd drank  
until I couldn't stand anymore, outdoing Two-Bit for once. Two-Bit and Steve had apparently carried me home, and the next morning, I'd woken to find a bottle of aspirin on the table beside the bed, and a glass of water. When I'd finally managed to  
get out of bed despite the pouding headache I'd found Darry in the kitchen, cooking eggs that he sat in front of me.

"Did it help?" He'd asked, and I'd known he hadn't been talking about the aspirin.

"No." And that had been that. I hadn't touched a drop since.

"Hey, Sodapop." Two-Bit's sister smiled a little, but she felt bad for me...I could see it in her eyes. She and Ponyboy had been friendly enough, from what I'd been able to tell. Sometimes Two-Bit would joke that she had a crush on him, but I couldn't  
tell for sure, and Pony had never said anything about her. "Your brother here?"

"Your brother here?" I didn't want to think about that...about when everything had been fine and our biggest worry had been when my little brother would finally discover girls. It hurt too much.

"Yeah, I'm here!" Two-Bit called, dropping a hand on his little sister's shoulder. But as soon as he'd caught sight of me, his smile dropped. "Sodapop? You alright?"

"I gotta talk to you." I mumbled, shoving my hands in my pockets. Steve was at school that day, and I needed to get some backup just in case I started bawling in public. I'd turned into a real baby these last few months, that was for sure. Honestly, I'd  
thought Two-Bit might be at school, but apparently, he was skipping. "You mind?" I asked my buddy, my fingers making tight fists in my pockets.

"Come on in, Soda." He told me, steering Susan away from the door. The girl watched me quietly, her eyes wide and worried. "You alright?" He asked. I shook my head. "Come on." He steered me to his room off the kitchen, and I let him push me down to sit  
on his unmade bed, the door shutting firmly behind him. "You look like shit, man. What happened?"

"A cop came by." I told him quietly, wiping at my eyes and trying not to cry. I had to explain it so he could tell everyone else…and then I'd just go back to bed and cry for my little brother. That sounded like a plan to me. "Pony's missing."

"The hell you mean, missing?" He demanded, sitting beside me, gray eyes wide and serious.

"His foster family…they reported him missing yesterday…last night. But he wasn't in school at all on Monday…no one's seen him since that morning."

"Did he know about the hearing? Do they think he ran away?"

"The cop said he might have." I remembered the last conversation I'd had with my little brother…how he'd hesitated every time I asked if he was okay. How he still wasn't allowed to call us. It wasn't right. Something wasn't right. "Said he should have  
been told about the hearing." We'd been planning on some kind of homecoming…now he was gone. "Why would he run off if he knew there was a hearing, Two-Bit?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Why? What would make him run off like that?"

"Maybe he didn't know about the hearing." Two-Bit suggested softly. I shook my head.

"Why run away, though? On the phone…" I'd rehashed our phone call for Darry the day it had happened. When I'd told him that Ponyboy said hello…how he'd refused to tell me anything about himself or how he was really doing, Darry had almost put another  
hole in the wall. Instead, he'd stormed out, slamming the door behind him and dropping onto the porch where he'd sat, face in his hands, for almost an hour until Steve and Dally had dropped by. I hadn't told the gang what Pony had said during that  
last phone call, though, just that he'd called. "He sounded real bad, Two-Bit. Scared. I think…I think those people…"

"Sodapop, you don't know anything for sure." My friend reminded me. "Maybe he just wanted to see you two…heck, maybe he's hiding out around here now." I nodded.

"That's what the cop said," I admitted, wiping my eyes again and laughing shakily. "Darry's calling Tim…hopefully him and his gang can help us look."

"You know they will. We can talk to Dally too. You know he's connected. I'll bet he's missing the kid too." I nodded. I knew he was. These days he was almost always with Johnny or off on his own…rarely did he come to our house anymore. "Let's get the  
others. We'll talk to Steve and Dal…Johnny too. We'll start looking around and asking if anyone's seen him." He put a hand on my shoulder, grinning. "Heck, we'll start under my house. You know the kid could fit under there. Have you looked in your  
attic?" I snorted, wiping my eyes one last time.

"Thanks, Two-Bit."

"Come on. We're gonna find the kid. Let's go wake Dally up and see if he's up for helping us. I ain't seen him in a few days, and you know what that means." I did. Either he was beat up or he'd found himself a girl to shack up with.

We found Dally wandering the streets on our way to Bucks. It wasn't a huge town, and we knew where he liked to hang out. Two-Bit waved to get his attention, and I could have swore Dally flinched when he saw me. Still, he crossed the road and slouched  
in front of us, hands in his pockets. "Hey man. How's it hanging?" He asked Two-Bit around the cigarette in his mouth, shaking his hand, and I knew Two-Bit was tempted to give a smart answer, but he restrained himself…just barely, if the way he twitched  
was anything to go by.

"I need your help, Dal." I cut in, not able to wait for the pleasantries to be out of the way. He turned to me, eyebrow lifted.

"Yeah?" He asked, sounding almost resigned. Like people came to him with the same line every day. Heck, for all I knew, they did.

"Ponyboy's missing." He nodded slowly, his face displaying some mild interest.

"Yeah?"

I thought I might slug him…instead, I jammed my hands into my pocket. "Dally, his foster family reported him missing…no one's seen him since Monday morning. The police came by…they think he might have run away." Dally grunted, nodding thoughtfully, and  
I felt myself lean in, ready to crack his jaw. I hadn't gotten into a good fight lately. He seemed to sense it and lifted an eyebrow, channeling Two-Bit apparently. Said friend put a hand on my shoulder.

"You seen the kid, Dal?" Two-Bit asked, all kidding long forgotten.

"Not since they took him, man. You know those foster places are kept top secret. Tim and I looked around for a bit but…" He trailed off, shrugging. "They think the kid ran off?" He confirmed, looking at me, softening just a bit.

"That's what the cop said."

"Huh. Things musta been pretty bad for him to run." He commented idly, and my fist twitched.

"Can you stop being an ass and help me?" I snapped, feeling my eyes get hot again as my voice cracked a little. Just what I needed…to cry in front of Dallas Winston. He and Two-Bit exchanged a look, and when Dal spoke, it was a lot quieter.

"I'll talk to Tim. See if he can keep an eye out."

"Darry's already on it." Two-Bit told him. "Just ask around here, you dig? Keep your eyes open. If you see him…"

"I'll keep an eye out for the kid. I'm sure he's fine, Soda." He told me in what was almost a comforting tone, running a hand through his hair. "You shouldn't worry. He's a smart kid. Not street smart…but he can take care of himself."

"Dal..." I trailed off, my voice catching. I didn't know what it would help to have him reassure me. Dally didn't know what was happening any better than I did. Still, he dropped a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll keep an eye out, Soda, and I'll ask around. Don't worry, alright? If I see the kid, I'll bring him right to you or Darry." I nodded.

"Thank you, Dal."

"Yeah." He mumbled, dropping his hand and pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, letting it fall to his feet and put it out with the heel of his old tennis shoes. "You talk to Steve yet?"

"That's where we're headed…we'll try to catch him at lunch. Johnny too. "

"Alright. I'm gonna head over to Bucks…see if anyone's heard anything."

"Thanks again, Dal." He lifted a hand in a lazy backward wave as he headed down the street, and Two-Bit and I watched him for a second before headed to the high school. As we made our way over, I glanced at my friend. "How come _you're_ not in school  
today?" I asked, trying to grin. He shrugged.

"I think I'm still half drunk from last night." He admitted with a smirk. I snorted, shaking my head.

"How you ever gonna get out of high school if you never show up to class?"

"I figure I've got another few years before they decide to kick me out." Two-Bit said with a shrug as we reached the front gates. We were early for lunch but if I knew Steve it was about time for his smoke break. We headed around the side of the building,  
keeping an eye out, and low and behold, about twenty minutes later, my buddy stepped out of the building using a side door, patting his pockets and pulling out a smoke. Just two years ago, I'd been sneaking out with him. For a moment, the action reminded  
me so much of Ponyboy that I couldn't even talk. My little brother, the weed fiend. I wondered if they let him smoke in that place. I wondered where he got his smokes without Two-Bit around to swipe them for him, or me or even Steve to grab him a  
pack.

"Hey, Stevie!" Two-Bit called, heading over to where our friend was now taking a drag of his cigarette. He glanced up, grinning when he saw us and pushing off the wall to meet us halfway.

"If you're counting on me to pick up your homework, you're out of luck, you lazy greaser," Steve called with a smirk for Two-Bit. Then he seemed to get a good look at me, frowning and dropping his barely smoked cigarette, stepping on it as it hit the  
asphalt. "Sodapop? You alright?" I knew I wasn't looking great at the moment, and I was sure my eyes were bloodshot, so it was nice to know Steve could see immediately that something was wrong. Made me look real tough.

"Ponyboy's missing." I said it for the third time that day, barely recognizing my own voice.

"Missing?" Steve repeated, crossing his arms and glancing at Two-Bit.

"They reported him missing yesterday…last night." Two-Bit put in, probably knowing that I wouldn't want to keep telling the story. "But he wasn't in school yesterday. No one's seen him since yesterday morning, according to the fuzz. Some cop came to their  
house this morning asking about Ponyboy…if they'd seen him."

"Shit, Sodapop." He mumbled, reaching out and touching my shoulder.

"I knew something was wrong." I admitted. "When he called…the last time…it was three months ago at least. He sounded scared…real scared. And now…"

"Hey, we'll find him."

"What if someone…what if they…"

"Hey! Don't even start with that shit!" Steve snapped, shaking my shoulder. "The kid's fine. He probably just ran off, you know? Maybe he's hiding out around here…maybe he wanted to see you."

"We got a court date! Why would he run off and risk that?" I hated to keep having this conversation over and over, but man, no one could explain that one to me. Steve didn't even bother trying. Instead, he glanced around, squeezing my shoulder.

"Let me grab my stuff and meet me by my car. I'm gonna try and find Johnny real quick. You know those two are close...maybe he got in contact with him. You talk to Dal?"

"Yeah. Just came from talking to him." Two-Bit told him.

"Alright. You know he's asking all around town by now, and he'll probably tell Johnny. What about Darry?" He asked.

"He's talking to Tim."

"Good. Let's drive around…keep an eye out. Go places the kid might hide out. Sound good?"

It sounded better than sitting at home all day crying in bed, that was for sure. At least this was doing something...getting something done. Sort of. "Yeah, Steve. Thanks a lot." I told him quietly, fighting back the urge to start crying again. Pony would  
be shocked to see my buddy working so hard to find him…I wasn't. I was just grateful.

"Meet me at my car." He repeated, hurrying back to the building, and Two-Bit and I headed to the parking lot, ready to look for my little brother.

 _ **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. :)**_


	5. Running

_**Thank you so much for everyone who has reviewed. They make my day and I appreciate it so much! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**_

 _Running_

Pulling away from the bus station, I did my best not to stare out the window at Dally. He was already worried, and I didn't figure there was any need to worry him more, and if he saw my face, he'd realize how scared I was. I didn't know what he was going to do...how he would take care of this before the cops or the social workers tracked me down. Then again, I supposed New York was a big city. I hoped he got word to my brothers somehow. They'd worry, I knew it...especially when that family had to report me missing. I figured they'd wait until after school ended on Monday. Heck, maybe even Tuesday. Say I was home sick or something. Because eventually they were going to find Lianne. It wasn't exactly a deep grave. That thought made my stomach turn and I turned to the window again, glad I hadn't eaten anything.

I met Dally's eyes as the bus turned onto the main road, and he lifted his hand, a cigarette between his fingers, a solemn look on his face. I waved back, then leaned back against the seat, staring at the ceiling. I'd gotten a seat on the aisle like he'd told me, my bag beside me against the window. I'd made sure to sit near the back, hoping the other people getting on the bus didn't pay any attention to me. My face was starting to throb, and I brought a hand up to find that it was bleeding again. Grimacing, I opened the bag and dug through, past the food and grinning at the candy bars, then found the gauze Dally had gotten me. I held it up to my face, dumping some alcohol on another gauze pad and pressing it to my face. I wanted to scream, but if I'd learned anything from that foster home and the asshole that ran it, it was how to keep quiet when something hurt like hell.

After about three hours, I pulled out the sandwich and started eating, practically inhaling it in a few bites. I hadn't eaten in what felt like days. I wanted to eat the candy bars too, but since I barely had any money, I was terrified of running out of food. Instead I waited for the first stop, ran into a gas station to buy a bottle of water and use the bathroom, then sipped the water for a while, drinking about half and putting it in my duffle bag. Once I was back in my seat, I closed my eyes, resting my head against the seat and trying to sleep, the duffle bag strap wrapped around my leg. It only sort of worked. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her...I saw the knife in his hand and the way he'd grabbed her around the throat and then the others...I should have done something. I should have saved her. She should have been the one that got away.

I jerked awake when there was a hand on my shoulder, and I went for the blade in my pocket before the hand jerked away, and a wide eyed greaser pulled away. "Easy there, kid." He held his hands up, looking more amused than anything. Good to know I wasn't even convincing to a stranger. "You're bleeding." He told me wryly, and I rolled my eyes, mumbling my tired thanks and pressing another piece of gauze to my face. "You a friend of Dallas Winston's?" I hesitated at the question...apparently he'd see Dal drop me off at the bus station. Still, it would be bad if he figured out who I was.

"Yeah...more of an acquaintance." I shrugged. "Needed a ride."

The guy nodded, apparently catching on that I didn't want to talk about it. "Got it. Keep the gauze on that cut, kid, else you'll bleed out before you get where you're going." I nodded, thanking him again, and he headed back to his seat. I put more alcohol on my face, once again trying not to yell. It burned something awful. I kept the pressure on it for a while, trying not to fall asleep again. I was exhausted, but I figured I could sleep when I got to New York. Besides, every time I closed my eyes it was the same nightmare. But I'd gotten pretty good at not thinking about things that hurt when I was awake, so I stared out the window, unseeing, as the bus took me north.

For the next two days, I made sandwiches on the bus, filling up the same water bottle in gas station bathroom sinks. The greaser that had woken me up to tell me I was bleeding bought me a soda and a breakfast sandwich at one of the gas stations, and when I tried to pay him, he shook his head. "You're a buddy of Dally's." He told me, like it was an explanation.

"Acquaintance." I corrected him. He rolled his eyes.

"You've been refilling that same water bottle all day, and eating sandwiches from that bag. Take it." I sighed, mumbling a thank you, and he'd nodded, heading back to his seat. Gobbling down the breakfast sandwich, I tried not to think about my brothers. It didn't work, and I wondered if Dally had given them the cards yet. Heck, I wondered if he'd even told them anything. I hoped Darry didn't hit him or nothing. He'd done me a huge favor...he'd saved my life. When I got to New York, maybe it would be safe to call home...find out what was going on. I dozed on and off and tried to think about what I would say to them...especially Darry, instead of why I was running. After that fight, we hadn't even had a real conversation, and then the social workers had shown up to take me away. I missed my big brother so much.

After what felt like a week, but was only a little over two days, the bus squealed to a stop and the remaining people climbed to their feet, yawning and grabbing their bags. The greaser that had given me a soda and the breakfast sandwich had gotten off a few stops ago, and this was the last bus station, where Darry had ordered me to get off. I stretched my legs a little, almost falling as I tried to stand, holding the duffle bag on my shoulder close. I gripped the handles on the ceiling, feeling my legs nearly give, but managed to catch myself at the last second as I made my way to the front of the bus. One of the rougher looking guys gave me a once over, then nodded. I nodded back, figuring that it was the cut that made me look tough, barely meeting his eyes. At least it had fooled _him._ I headed down the aisle, mumbling a 'bye' to the bus driver as I walked down the stairs.

"Take it easy, kid." He told me without interest, not even looking up as he lifted a finger from the steering wheel. Good. The last thing I needed was for someone to remember me.

Walking down the steps on rubbery legs, I fished the piece of paper Dally had given me out of my pocket and looked around, standing beside the bench at the bus station. A few people brushed past me, and I gripped the shoulder strap of the duffle bag. In my back pocket, I could feel the switch and that was some comfort. On the paper was the address of this "James" guy, his phone number, and Dally's phone number. I didn't know if Dally had gotten a hold of James yet, but I didn't think Dally would be up just yet. It was about 8 am on a Wednesday morning, and Dally usually didn't get up before 10 at the earliest. Plus I figured there was some kind of time change. Still I had nothing to do around the strange city, and not a lot of money to do it with.

The address didn't mean much to me. I didn't have a map, nor did I know where to find one. I knew I needed to move, but I felt rooted to the spot on the sidewalk. I was exhausted after that ridiculously long bus ride. I thought about my brothers and wondered if they were up yet. There was a time difference between us, but I was too tired to figure it out. Instead, I wanted to drop down on the bench and take a nap. But I knew Dally would beat the shit out of me if I did something stupid like that. This wasn't Tulsa. It would be dangerous to sleep outside here, especially with no one around to watch my back. Suddenly, this all seemed real. On the bus, it had been like living in a fog, just doing whatever Dally had told me to do. But now...I had to figure it out on my own. Thankfully, I'd had a lot of practice being on my own for the last few months. A stab of pain went through my chest when that thought, like most thoughts, led to my brothers.

Forcing my legs to move and figuring I couldn't get any more lost, I headed down the street, ducking into the first gas station I saw and looking around for someone that worked there. There was a guy behind the counter, around Soda's age, and for a second, it hurt so much I couldn't stand it. Then he looked up. Thankfully, he looked nothing like my brother with blond hair and bright blue eyes that were too awake for how early it was. "Hey man." He greeted, nodding. "What can I do for ya?" I shifted the duffle bag up further onto my shoulder, then stepped up to the counter, forcing myself to meet his eyes. Another thing I'd learned staying in that hellhole: never make eye contact. Still I didn't want this guy to think I was scared. Sometimes I'd catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror and give a start, wondering who that terrified looking kid was. The guy seemed to soften, leaning across the counter a little, arms resting on the surface. "What's up kid? You lost? Just get here?"

I laughed a little, running a hand through my hair and nodding, making sure to avoid the still-fresh cut on the side of my face. I'd probably need to put more alcohol on it or I'd have bigger problems than being lost in New York. "Yeah, actually. Just got into town. I'm looking for my uncle's place." I hadn't rehearsed the lie, and I was glad it came so easily. I always had been a good liar. "All I got is his address. Any idea where that is?" He reached out, grabbing the paper from me and reading it for a minute, then nodded.

"Sure, kid. Maybe two miles from here. Turn left down Liberty for a few blocks until you get to Park." He pointed. "Take a left on Park and walk until you hit Troy...might be a while. These apartments are off Troy...not sure exactly where, but it ain't no good part of town." I shrugged. I hadn't exactly lived in a good part of town before. "Anyway, you might have to walk for a while until you get there. I think they're down by Union Avenue but I ain't sure. If you get lost, there's another filling station around there, so you should be able to stop in and ask. You got all that?"

"Yeah, thanks." I told him, meaning it.

"Sure thing, kid." He held out a hand. "I'm Will." I hesitated. Even if the news hadn't gotten up to New York that I was missing, and even if it was a big city, I didn't want to risk it. Besides, Ponyboy was a name people remembered.

"Mike." I told him, going with my middle name as I shook his hand.

"Good to meet you, Mike. Good luck." I thanked him again, heading out the door and turning left, hoping I remembered his directions. I was dead tired, but I needed to find this place before I could get any rest, and even then, it was possible that this guy had moved, or wouldn't let me stay...or was dead. In that case, I really might have to take a nap on a park bench. I thought of how Dally would react to that and grinned a little.

The streets were full in a way I'd never really seen before except on TV. People crossed the road, narrowly dodging cars that sped by, and barely any of them spared me a glance. There were some businessmen in suits, carrying briefcases in one hand and newspapers under their arms and women in nice dresses and heels and guys that looked like me, dressed in old clothes with slicked back hair, and on the street corners tucked into alcoves were some older guys in ratty clothes with their hats upside down on the sidewalk in front of them, never meeting my eyes. I supposed there were homeless people in Tulsa, but not really in my neighborhood. I thought about tossing a few coins in, but I knew I didn't have much money, so I was afraid to part with any of it.

When I saw the sign for Park, I turned left, mumbling an apology when I bumped into some lady, and she grabbed her purse tighter, eyes shifting over to me nervously. I did my best to ignore her, shifting the bag on my shoulder. Around us, shops were opening, and the lady slipped into an office building, pulling a key out of her pocket. Three real pretty girls walked towards me, their eyes flashing to me, and the one in the middle, a blonde girl that reminded me of Sandy, grinned at me. I felt my ears get hot, and for a second I got distracted, forgetting where I was supposed to be going. Running a hand through my hair, I grinned a little at her, then dropped my eyes back down to the sidewalk. I seemed to have lost the ability to make eye contact with anyone for long. Beside me, a guy with hair greasier hair than mine bumped me a little, all but marching up to the girls to talk to them, and I felt stupid for thinking they were smiling at me. Anyway, the last thing I needed was to get into any kind of trouble, so I hurried on past the girls and the guy that reminded me of Dally, hoping my ears weren't red.

It seemed to take a long time to get to Troy. As I walked, the businesses got older looking, the paint on the buildings chipped and the people working them looking more tired. I noticed there were more guys sitting around, either on porches or right on the sidewalk, all of them eyeing me as I walked by. I fought the urge to close my eyes as I walked, knowing I'd run into somebody and probably start a fight or something. I had no idea what people up here were like, but based on the few suspicious looks I was getting, I figured they wouldn't take too well to me running them over. I thought about how Two-Bit liked to walk backwards on the near empty sidewalks of our neighborhood and grinned at my feet. He'd have a time of it up here. But thinking about Two-Bit just reminded me of home which I was trying real hard not to think about, so I pushed that away and kept my head down, glancing up at the street signs when I passed them, and trying to read the addresses on the apartment buildings. The numbers were getting bigger, so I was at least going the right direction, but I could tell I was getting into a rougher part of town. In one alley, two guys faced off, both holding knives, and I hurried past, but a few streets later, I had to pause when I saw the couple between buildings.

The girl had the darkest skin I'd ever seen on a person, with big brown eyes that glared at the guy in front of her. He was older than me, and taller too, but that was nothing new. I looked forward to the day I finally grew as tall as my brothers. Maybe I'd never be as strong as Darry, but glory, it was the worst being so small no one took you seriously. The boy wore a leather jacket and boots despite the fact that it had to be at least 70 degrees out and climbing, his hand pressed against the brick wall where the girl stood. I didn't need to be getting involved in other people's problems. I needed to find this James guy, convince him to let me crash on his couch or his floor or...hell, his porch at this point, and then I needed sleep. I needed to keep walking.

I couldn't hear what he was saying, but the girl didn't look too happy about it, knocking his hand away and attempting to walk past him. A guy in a suit bumped into me, swearing under his breath and pushing me off to the side of the sidewalk. I didn't bother retaliating, just moved over to the edge of the alley and tried not to be conspicuous as I watched. He smirked at her, grabbing her arm, and for a second, her eyes met mine. I needed to keep walking. I didn't need trouble, or for anyone to remember me. But suddenly I wasn't seeing some pretty girl and a greasy guy in an alley in New York. I was seeing Lianne behind that bar. It had been so dark from where I'd stood under the lights, but I'd been to scared to take a step forward as I'd watched. She'd screamed, but not loud enough, and not for long enough...the sound had cut off in a cry when they'd hit her or kicked her...I couldn't see. I hadn't done anything...just watched as he'd pulled out a knife. She'd kept screaming, muffled like they had a rag in her mouth or something, and I knew what they were doing but I couldn't move. I'd let them hurt her...kill her...it was my fault. The girl in front of me wheeled around, bringing an arm up and backhanding him, putting her whole body into it. The guy reeled, bring up his hand quick as a snake and hit her right back, knocking her against the wall.

I pushed myself between the guy and the girl, pulling back a fist and and getting him right in the nose, knowing that this was probably my only chance to hit him, seeing Richard instead of whatever greaser was probably about to beat the shit out of me. I hadn't helped Lianne, but I could help this girl. Why hadn't I helped Lianne? This was trouble. This was not using my head. This was everything that had gotten me into this situation in the first place. The girl behind me gasped a little when the guy reeled once more, leaning back against the brick wall behind him, and I turned to the girl, saying what I should have said to my foster sister. "Go." I ordered, hoping she'd get out before he recovered, but she just gave me a look, eyes wide and incredulous, eyebrow raised like Two-Bit's.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked instead of running as the guy in the leather jacket recovered, wiping blood from his nose and taking a step toward me. She seemed to change her mind about figuring out who I was, and before I could blink she took a step forward to meet the guy, getting right up against him and bringing up her knee. Hard. I flinched when the guy groaned, dropping to his knees, and she grabbed my hand. "Come on."

She pulled me out onto the street, me glancing back at the guy on the ground as we blended in with the foot traffic. "You okay?" I asked, once we were a few blocks away, me still glancing over at the apartment numbers. The buildings were were crammed so close together it would be hard to walk more than two at a time down the alleys. She dropped my hand, and for the first time I realized that we were getting some weird looks. I ignored them, turning to her.

"I'm fine. Who are you?" Good question. Honestly, I didn't know anymore. No...I did know. I was the guy that let a group of men kill a little girl right in front of me. That's who I was. So what else mattered? Still, I shrugged.

"Nobody. Just wanted to make sure you were alright. You know that guy?" She lifted an eyebrow again.

"We go to school together." She told me without a care as we walked, me glancing over my shoulder once more to make sure that guy wasn't behind us. I didn't see him. Nodding, I glanced over at the apartments we were passing again, hoping to catch the number. "You got somewhere to be?" She asked, pausing on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, actually. Um...you sure you're okay?" I asked, pausing in front of her. Around us, people parted and went around like a stream diverted by a boulder, glancing up but not caring.

She lifted an eyebrow again, crossing her arms and smirking just a little. "I'm sure. I could have handled it."

I wasn't about to argue with her...for all I knew, she was a better fighter than I was. I just wanted to find these apartments and get some sleep. Sure, a 'thank you' would have been nice, but I had places to be. Hopefully. Otherwise I really was gonna have to pick an alley to sleep in. "Yeah, alright...um...see you around then." I called, turning and hurrying down the street, hoping the guy from the alley didn't come after me and feeling like this was all a surreal dream.

I found the apartment building, a squat, one story brick building with tall porches with a set of stairs leading to each door. A few of the windows were boarded up, and on one of the porches was an old guy with a paper bag that obviously held a bottle in his hand. He leaned against the railing, his eyes tracking me as I climbed the steps to the apartment whose number Dally had written down. Bringing up a hesitant hand, I met the old guy's eyes again before knocking.

The guy that answered the door looked like the kind of guy Dally might pal around with...the kind that Darry and Soda would want me to keep away from. He wore jeans and a stained tank top, his long black hair greased back, a few strands falling in front of his icy blue eyes, one of which was surrounded by a bruse. They reminded me of Darry, except Darry looked a lot nicer, even at his angriest. I thought back to the fight we'd had and pushed that memory away. We'd never even had the chance to talk about it and I wondered if we ever would. He was holding a cigarette in his left hand, the smoke curling around his head. He was tall and thin like Dal, and he looked mean like Dal did with strangers. On one bare arm was a tattoo of a woman, her head flung back with black sillouteed hair that reached halfway down her back. On the other arm was some kind of pattern surrounded by barbed wire. "What?" He demanded, giving me a once over. I ran a nervous hand through my hair, swallowing and trying to clear my throat and make eye contact at the same time. It didn't really work.

"Um...I'm...Dally sent me." I managed to stammer. All the talking was making my face throb again.

He shook his head a little, like he was clearing it out. "What?"

"You're...you're James, right?"

"Yeah." He looked about five seconds away from closing the door on my face.

"Dallas Winston sent me...told me I could stay with you." He lifted an eyebrow, and I held out the piece of paper with Dally's phone number. "Here's his number." He stared down at the piece of paper I held out, then back up at me. "Told me to tell you to call him…"

"Who the hell are you?" He asked, enunciating each word and crossing his arms, ignoring the piece of paper. I let my arm drop and sighed.

"I'm a friend of Dally's. I...I got into some trouble and Dal sent me up here...said you owed him one and I could stay with you."

"He did, huh?" This, James seemed to believe. He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Give it here." He demanded, holding out a hand for the paper, then, after snatching it out of my hand, turning and walking back into the apartment. He left the door open, so I followed, shutting it softly behind me, barely taking note of the place. It had a roof and there was a sofa...that was enough for me. Heck, at this point the roof was optional.

Without another word to me, James grabbed a phone from the table by the sofa, dialing and holding the phone to his ear. I stood in the doorway, the bag dangling from my arm, struggling to keep my eyes open. For a minute, I worried Dally wouldn't pick up. "Dallas. It's James." He leaned against the wall, scratching his head with one hand and gripping the phone with the other. "Yeah, man, you send some kid up here?" I heard Dally's voice louder on the other line, and James rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't hurt the kid. Not yet." He snorted at Dally's angry sounding reply. "He does, huh? I'll keep that in mind." He glanced at me and I dropped my eyes to the carpet on instinct. That didn't use to be instinct. "Yeah, I know I do. I ain't babysitting though. Kid can look out for himself." There was a long pause, Dally's indistinct voice filling the silence, and the guy in front of me swore under his breath. "Yeah, alright. Here." Without warning he thrust the phone into my hands and walked off. Hesitantly, I put it up to my ear as he disappeared around a corner.

"Kid, you alright?"

"Uh...yeah." I mumbled, leaning on the wall and closing my eyes.

"What's the matter with you?" He almost sounded concerned.

"Just tired." That and my face was killing me. I needed to put more alcohol on it.

"Go sleep then. He's gonna let you stay. Call me from a payphone when you wake up, alright? He ain't gonna wanna pay long distance."

"Sure. Thanks, Dal."

"Sure thing, kid. Get some sleep." And with that, he hung up.

James was standing in the doorway, arms crossed as he watched me hang up his phone. "Use a payphone next time you wanna call home. I ain't paying for long distance." He ordered, and I nodded, wondering how Dally had known and not about to point out that he'd been the one to make the call to Tulsa.

"Alright." I mumbled, running a tired hand through my hair.

"You can sleep on the couch. I don't have any food so you'll have to take care of that on your own."

"Sure."

"Your name really Ponyboy?" I nodded and he snorted. "Well, don't tell anyone around here. That's a name people are gonna remember, and I'm guessing you don't want to be remembered."

"I told the guy at the gas station my name was Mike." He shrugged.

"That'll work." He grabbed a leather jacket from a hook on the wall, slinging it over his shoulder. "See you around." And with that, he was gone. Too tired to look around the place, I put my bag under the sofa, then dropped onto the cushions and was unconscious before I could even get comfortable.

 _ **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**_


	6. New Evidence

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed! I hope you enjoy the new chapter**_

 _New Evidence_

Everyone came by the house on Wednesday night, Steve trailing after Soda when they both got off work and Johnny coming over with Dallas. Two-Bit came on his own with a twelve-pack of beer he'd half finished before he got the house. He'd been drinking too much lately...ever since they took Pony. I had a feeling he blamed himself somehow...something about those socs. I should probably talk to him about it. I didn't know what to say though. He was my little brother...I should have done a better job looking out for him. I shouldn't have hit him. I should have run after him. Regardless, I had no idea how to tell Two-Bit it wasn't his fault.

It was the first time in a while the whole gang had been at the house...well, except for Pony. But I couldn't think about Ponyboy...not if I wanted to function normally. Glory I missed my little brother so much. He'd usually be doing his homework about now, or have his nose in a book. I swore as I stared at the TV that I'd never get on him for reading too much again. He could read all he wanted. Or draw. Or go to the movies. Hell, I'd take him myself if I could just get him back. It hurt so much to think of him...and every time I thought of him, I thought about my hand on his face, how he'd fallen back against the door. How he'd looked at me...my little brother had never looked at me like that before. I never wanted him to look at me like that again.

Two-Bit changed the channel, and I was pulled from thoughts about Ponyboy and into thoughts about Sodapop who sat on the sofa, his cap over his eyes, barely paying attention to the card game going on between him, Dally, Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit. I'd opted out, grabbing my newspaper and trying to focus on that...it didn't really hold my attention like I'd hoped though. Soda wasn't doing too great, and I couldn't blame him. He couldn't focus at work, and every week that passed without us hearing anything about Pony had him lower and lower. I mean...it was killing me both of us, but everyone could see that it was hitting him harder. Or maybe I was just better at hiding it. Soda and Pony were close...closer than me and Pony had ever been. Everyone knew it. As I stared at the TV, I made another vow...that we'd be close again. We had been, when we were kids. I mean, not like him and Soda. Those two were best friends and brothers too, but I had always been the older brother, looking out for him, making sure he didn't get into trouble. If I could just get him back, I swore we'd be friends too.

I'd spent the day on the phone again, on my lunch, my breaks, and as soon as I'd gotten home. The social worker didn't seem to care that my little brother was missing. Hell, she didn't seem to care about us at all. Glory I hated that woman. Patty Jones. I didn't know why she'd been assigned to us, or why she seemed to want to keep Ponyboy away from us, but I hated her, and I couldn't wait until he was finally home. There was no reason that we couldn't see him...especially not for six months, and this court date we were so lucky to get was just to review our case. We might get visitation, or they might say he couldn't ever come home. And as soon as we get a court date, he goes missing. I turned the page of my newspaper, trying to think about anything else. It didn't work too well.

The knock came at nine, long after anyone other than the gang or the police would come visit...and the gang was all there. My eyes immediately found Soda's and he sat straight up, glancing around at everyone else who were slowly dropping their cards on the table. Dal kicked Two-Bit a little, and he turned the TV down. Placing the newspaper on the coffee table, I stood, taking a deep breath before I pulled open the door and found the same police officer from a few days ago. Officer...something or another. Somehow I hadn't really remembered his name.

"Good evening, Mr. Curtis." He greeted me softly, nodding, but there was something wrong.

"Hi, officer. What's going on." He sighed, struggling to meet my eyes.

"May I come in?" I didn't want him to come in. Once he came in, I would find out whatever was wrong and I had a sinking feeling that it would change everything. Had he found my brother? Was he hurt? Or was it something worse?

"Sure." I stepped back, gesturing him inside, and he paused as he noticed the guys all sitting around the table. Soda stood, shoulders slumped as he watched the cop enter the house. He was scared.

"You...you find him?" He asked, the hope barely there in his voice, the defeat already in his eyes. "You find Ponyboy?"

"I think it might be best we speak in private, Mr. Curtis." The cop glanced around the room, his eyes landing briefly on Dallas. I wondered if they knew each other.

"Anything you got to say, you can say in front of them." I told him shortly. I didn't want to talk to this guy alone. I didn't even want him there, but he had something to tell us, something about my brother, so I invited him to sit. He nodded, and Steve hopped up from the sofa, gesturing for the cop to sit. He did, moving slowly and eyeing Dallas once more, then turning back to me as I sat in the recliner. Soda sat on the floor beside Two-Bit and Steve joined him, all of us waiting.

"Mr. Curtis? I wanted to speak to you before you saw it on TV…" Beside me, Sodapop tensed, glancing over at me and then back at the cop on our sofa. I was glad the others were here. This wasn't looking good. My heart was lodged in my throat, and I couldn't have spoken if I had wanted to. "Your little brother's foster sister, Lianne, was found today."

"Found? Is she alright? Can we talk to her?" Soda demanded. My heart was lodged in my throat, and I couldn't breathe. Found. She was found. That didn't sound right. Steve clenched his jaw hard and put his hand on Soda's shoulder. Two-Bit was leaning in, his shoulder against Johnny's, his eyes dark and almost scared.

The cop took a long, deep breath, then shook his head, speaking more gently this time, looking up and just barely managing to meet my eyes. "Her _body_ was found...buried behind a bar about a mile from the high school." He looked around at us, sorry, like we'd known her, or like he'd done something wrong. But I couldn't feel anything. Everything was muted, like I could hear the words just barely, and nothing he said made any sense. Soda made a noise in his throat, eyes huge as his hands clenched into tight fists. "We also found your brother's jacket...it was a few feet away from where she was buried."

"How do you know it was his?" I forced myself to ask. I didn't want to know, not really. The cop pulled out three photographs and placed them on the table, Soda the first of us to move forward to get a look. I watched him rather than leaning in myself, feeling the blood drain from my face at his reaction.

Soda dropped his head into his hands and Steve scooted in, his hand on my brother's back. He caught a glimpse of the photograph and swore, shaking his head and looking away, and I moved in to get a look myself. The first crime scene photo was of the jacket itself on a table, probably in a police station somewhere, the rust-colored stains covering the fabric made more obvious by the harsh overhead lighting. There was a rip in the side, the bloodstain more prominent around the frayed edges. The second photo the cop had dropped on the table was the same, but next to the jacket on the table was a snapshot of Sodapop and another one of the whole gang. Our mom had taken the photo in our living room...right before Christmas the year before they died.

In it, we were all gathered around the couch, Steve, Soda, Pony, and Johnny squished together on the sofa, with me, Dal, and Two-Bit behind them. We all smiled at the camera. My hands were on my brothers' shoulders, and Soda had an arm around Ponyboy. In the corner, I could see our Christmas tree...Mom had used the photo for our holiday card. Sent it to her friends and everything. She always called us her boys...all of us. Our mom wouldn't have let this happen. Glory if she'd have caught me hitting Pony like I had, she would have skinned me herself.

The third police photo had been taken where the jacket had been found. It was half buried in fresh dirt, the grass around it bloody. I thought I might throw up, my stomach churning. "You think…" Soda whispered, not finishing his sentence.

"We believe your brother and Lianne were on their way to school when they were...attacked." The cop told us softly.

"You said she was buried behind some bar." Steve broke in, sounding suspicious.

"It's possible they were taken there...or they could have been cutting school. This bar is only about a mile from the school...you can pass it on your way to the school from their house." Ponyboy wasn't really one to cut school...well, he hadn't been before. He probably knew it could get us in trouble, and our parents would never have put up with it. Why would he cut school? As far as I knew, he actually liked school well enough. Well...he'd liked the school he went to _here_ well enough. Who knew what kind of school he went to now...how they treated him.

"But you haven't found him?" That was Dally, and we all looked at him with mild surprise. Or maybe it was just me who was mildly surprised...Sodapop looked like he was on the verge of panic, but I couldn't feel anything much for some reason. That kind of worried me. Dally sounded mad. The cop hesitated, then shook his head in answer to Dal's question. "You ain't found the kid and you're coming here acting like he's dead!"

"We haven't found a body, no. But we found his jacket covered in blood by the grave of his foster sister. We're currently searching the area. There are several acres of wooded land behind the bar and around the high school..."

"This is bullshit! The kid ain't dead. He can't be!" Dally snapped, glaring at the cop.

"Dal…" Two-Bit muttered, giving him a reproving look, but our friend just shook his head, turning and pointing at me.

"Your kid brother is smart. He would have gotten away." I felt a surge of gratitude when Soda nodded, wiping his eyes and sitting up.

"Dal's right. Pony's tough. He wouldn't just…" Soda trailed off, leaning against the recliner I was sitting in, and I stood, going to sit beside him on the floor and putting an arm around him. It seemed like the right thing to do. I seemed to be on autopilot, the roaring in my ears making it hard to think.

"Mr. Winston, while I appreciate your optimism, why wouldn't Ponyboy have come to the police after seeing his foster sister killed?"

"Easy. Maybe he don't trust you idiots won't get him killed."

"Excuse me?"

"All I know is that kid's foster parents were beating the shit out of him." I felt every drop of blood in my body turn to ice, my stomach dropping. There was absolute silence in our living room as we all turned to stare at Dally, and the roaring in my ears got louder.

"What?" Soda choked out. "They were...what?"

"Mr. Winston...are you saying you had contact with Ponyboy Curtis while he was in foster care?" The cop was almost whispering, leaning in and staring at our buddy.

"I looked the kid up. Found him at his school a few months ago." Dally shrugged. "The kid looked like a walking corpse. Had a black eye I'll bet he didn't get at school, 'cause that girl, Lianne, had one too. By the way, he was moving, I'd say he had more bruises under his clothes."

We all stared at Dally, wide-eyed and silent, and the cop's shoulders dropped as he stared at our buddy in honest surprise. After a few seconds, he sat up, seeming to shake it off, and was pulling out a notebook from his pocket. "Mr. Winston, I'd like to ask you a few more questions."

"Then ask 'em." He told the cop, leaning back and crossing his arms, firmly ignoring my gaze. He almost looked bored. My little brother was missing. His bloody jacket had been found by the grave of his foster sister. And Dallas Winston looked like he was being forced to watch Mickey Mouse with Two-Bit.

"You said you 'looked him up.' When was this?" He asked, the pen poised above his notebook. I was glad he wasn't gonna get on Dal for not telling us this earlier...he could leave that to me, but later, after the fuzz was gone. Right now I needed answers as bad as the cop. Hell, we all did.

Dallas spoke slowly like he was choosing every word. "A few months ago...a little while after you put him in that place."

The cop didn't bother correcting him on that. "And did he say anything about the family he was with?"

"Nope. I picked the kid up at school. Gave him a ride back to the house and a buck to buy himself some food." He glanced at me but didn't meet my eyes. "It was all I had." He seemed to be directing that at me, and I wondered if he was trying to earn my forgiveness or try to assure me he'd tried to take care of my brother. As angry as I was at him for not telling me he'd found Pony, I knew he'd have done anything he could to look after my brother. But why hadn't he just told us? Not that I could have done much, but at least I could have brought it to the state's attention. If he had a black eye...hell the state would have had to do something! He could have been put somewhere safer. Through the roaring in my ears and the numbness in my body I felt fury at Dallas, and that made the other things recede some. His next words didn't help much. "The kid looked like he was starving. Lost a bunch of weight. That's about it." He'd been starving. They hadn't been feeding my little brother. I wanted to slam my hand into another wall, but seeing as a cop was here, I figured making another hole in our house wouldn't be my best option.

"The 'kid' being Ponyboy?" The cop clarified, and Dal rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, the 'kid' being Ponyboy." He was just short of mocking but got serious again quick. "He was wearing long sleeves when it was hot out and had a black eye. When we got to his house, his foster sister, the Lianne girl, came out with a black eye like his. She told him he had to hurry and get inside."

"Did she say why?"

"Nope. I figured it was something to do with the foster father. I drove off...circled the block, and the guy...I guess it was his foster father, showed up, so it must have been him she was talking about."

"Did you see this man hurt Ponyboy?"

"Nope. He went inside, and I didn't exactly try to peek in the windows." He told the cop dryly, and I could have strangled him.

"Have you seen him since that day? Ponyboy?"

Dally hesitated for just a second, eyes dropping, and I knew whatever he was about to say would be a lie. "No." I fought not to slam my fist down on the coffee table.

"Dallas!" I snapped, in hand tight in a fist at my side, the other arm still slung around Soda who leaned against me. I wondered if he was even hearing any of this. "I swear, Dal, if you don't tell us…" The cop looked warily between us for a moment.

Dallas glared at the floor, nodding slowly and seeming to think. "I saw him one more time." He admitted, glancing over at me, then back at the cop. "I drove by every once in a while, by that house...trying to see if I could keep an eye on him. I didn't run into him or anything, but I saw him on the porch one night, about a month ago...around his birthday." I remembered that day. None of us had acknowledged Soda's birthday, or mine either. I'd tried to, but he'd just smiled a little, shaking his head and telling me we could celebrate when we got Pony back. The same had happened on my birthday. But Ponyboy's birthday had been the worst.

"Where was he?"

"On the porch. He was by himself...it was almost dark. He was holding his arm, like it hurt. Had his head on the porch beam, like he was crying or something." Soda dropped his head into his hands beside me, and I squeezed his shoulder, torn between comforting him and killing someone. "I just drove by. When I circled the block and came around again, he was gone, or I would have stopped and talked to him." He glanced at me again, but I just nodded, my jaw tight. We could talk about this later.

"And that's the last time you saw him?"

"Yepp." This time he didn't hesitate, so I could only guess he was telling the truth. I caught his eye and he nodded a little. He was telling the truth. "Any more questions?"

"Not at this time, Mr. Winston." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, leaning across the table and handing it to me. "If you have any questions...or if you can think of anything else, let me know." He hesitated. "We will be searching the woods and the areas surrounding the bar and the high school."

"You...you really think they...whoever it was, got him?" Sodapop asked, his voice hoarse.

The cop gave my brother a grim smile. "It's possible he could have escaped. He could still be hiding around here somewhere...or he might have run away. We are going to speak to some of his classmates, and we'll meet with his foster family again tomorrow." He met my eyes. "Just...prepare yourselves for the possibility."

I glanced down at the card I held in limp fingers. This wasn't real...it couldn't be real. My hand shook and I did my best to still them. "Thanks Officer Charton. Um...let us know if you find out anything else."

"I will." He reached out, and I shook his hand, my head spinning. He seemed about to try and shake Soda's, but my brother seemed beyond talking, so he just left, nodding to the others and heading out the door, leaving all of us in silence.

I stood, walking over to Dallas who pulled himself to his feet, barely making eye contact. I opened my mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Around us, everyone watched in wary silence. "Look, man, I was going to…"

My fist smashed into his face before I'd even decided to punch him. He was thrown back into the chair, dropping down and bringing a hand up to his mouth which was dripping blood through his fingers and onto his shirt. He pulled the hand away from his face and looked up at me, his lip busted open. He wasn't scared though. I was glad. If he'd have been scared, I might have thought of Ponyboy staring up at me that night and I didn't know if I could bear that.

Turning, I stormed out of the living room and into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me as hard as I could and listening to a picture frame fall off the wall with a crash. It felt good, using my strength for something instead of just sitting around, waiting for someone to show up and tell me my brother was gone. They'd found his jacket covered in blood out behind a bar by the grave of his foster sister. As I sat on the bed, I heard Soda in the other room, his voice bordering on hysterical. "You found him. You found him and they were hurting him...and you didn't tell us! What the hell is wrong with you!?" I wanted to go to him...I wanted to hold him and tell him it was okay...that we still had each other. Instead, I dropped my head into my hands, my fingers clenched in my hair. "If something happened to him…" I wanted to tell Soda that he was too late...something already had.

The door opened and shut, and I wanted to deck whoever was trying to talk to me while I was like this, but the person just sat on my bed, a hand hesitantly touching my back. Soda was still berating Dally, so it couldn't be him. I didn't bother looking up, though. Couldn't get any damn privacy in my own house. It didn't matter, because my brother was gone and they'd found his jacket in a field covered in blood and that could only mean one of a few things. None of them were good. But I couldn't even start to think about the worst possibility...that he was in a makeshift grave somewhere behind a bar far away from his home...from us.

"I'm sorry, man." Two-Bit spoke almost too quietly for me to hear, and I shook my head.

"This is my fault." I told my hands, refusing to look up at him. He gripped my shoulder, trying to get me to look up. "Beat it, Keith." I snapped, the sob taking the sting out of my words.

"Hey, you can't do this." He snapped, shaking me a little. "Soda needs you...so does Ponyboy. You can't give up now."

"I hit him." I was sure he already knew that, since nothing stayed a secret in our gang. I hadn't told him though...hadn't said the words to anyone. Couldn't _get_ myself to say the words. What kind of coward hit his fourteen year old brother then couldn't even own up to it? "The night he ran off and got into that fight...he came home late and I yelled at him, then when he tried to explain himself, I hit him. That's the only reason he was in the park...in the fight." I was still crying like a baby, but I figured I had a good excuse. He kept his hand on my shoulder.

"He knew you were stressed out, Dar. He knew you didn't mean it."

"No he didn't." I snapped, finally looking at him. "He thought I hated him. Thought I wanted to send him to a boy's home...get rid of him."

Surprisingly, he didn't argue, just nodded. "Yeah. Suppose he did." I paused, wiping my eyes and staring at him in the dim light of my bedroom. "Told me and Johnny as much after we left the movies with those girls." I snorted without humor.

"Right. Of course he did. Because I was such a shitty guardian. He thought I _hated_ him, Two-Bit. My own little brother. And he couldn't talk to me about how damn awful our relationship had gotten because he was scared of me, and then I hit him!"

"Yeah, that about sums it up." I shook my head, dropping my head into my hands once more.

"Now he's gone. They were hurting him in that place...Sodapop suspected it, but we couldn't do anything. They were beating him and starving him...and now...now someone…" He put both hands on my shoulders, shaking me again while I cried.

"Look, you don't know that. You don't know that he's...gone." My friend couldn't even say the word. "He could have gotten away. Hell, he probably did. Pony learned to rumble from the best. Right?" He shook me again when I didn't answer. "You and Soda taught that kid to fight. I gave him a few lessons myself, and so did Dallas. He's tough, Darry. He probably got away."

I forced myself to nod, too scared to really believe it, but desperately needing to. Maybe my brother was okay. Maybe he'd gotten away. I wiped at my face, shaking my head, the image of the jacket flashing in my mind. "What if he didn't?"

"You can't think like that, Darry. Look, we all love the kid. And I know you didn't mean to hit him...I'm sure he does too. You screwed up, and you know it. You're gonna get the chance to fix it. We're gonna find him. He's probably hiding out. Whatever happened to his foster sister...it probably scared the hell out of him, and he's hiding somewhere. We're going to find him, and then we'll bring him home. Okay?"

I didn't know. I didn't know if he was right, or if my little brother was alive. But Soda needed me...if I gave up, he would too. And if Ponyboy really was out there somewhere, hiding out or something, then...well, I certainly wasn't giving up on him. Not ever. I owed him that much.

 _ **Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked the new chapter!**_


	7. Aimless

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I hope you enjoy the new chapter! :)**

Aimless

When I woke, it was too dark to see anything past my hand that I held up in front of my face. For a minute, I couldn't figure out exactly where I was. The boy's home, where I'd lain awake almost every night, crying into a pillow or staring blankly up at the ceiling in the dark, praying that I could go home soon? The hellhole, listening to Rita cry in the room next door, or to the asshole in the kitchen, drinking and swearing and yelling at whoever dared enter the room? Then I remembered. The bus. The girl in the alley. James. I was on James' couch. Groaning and rolling over, I looked around for a clock and didn't find one. Reaching under the couch, I found the bag, then dropped my arm, head resting on the sofa. I felt wrong...like my body wasn't used to the time difference.

I'd dreamed about Lianne...her and Rita both. He'd hurt both of them, just in different ways. I'd done my best to stop him...to help them. It hadn't always worked, and more often than not he'd take it out on me, but at least he'd leave them alone. Sometimes. Every week he'd go to Rita's room at least once, and one night after the social worker had brought me back to the house, warning me not to try and contact her again, I'd gotten out of bed. The other guys I shared that room with hadn't noticed or cared when I left the room in the night. I'd slipped into Rita's bedroom, grabbing the asshole from where he'd stood at the foot of her bed, decking him in the face and knowing I was going to pay for it. He'd just about killed me, but for that night at least, he'd left my foster sister alone.

In my dream, I was in their room, my back against Rita's bed. She never really spoke to me, but I knew she was grateful. I think she was too embarrassed to even acknowledge, but Lianne had. "One of these days he might settle for you." She'd told me one day on our way to school. Sometimes we walked to school together. Most days, actually, but she always stayed after, studying at the school library as long as she could almost every day.

I'd thought about that before...I just prayed it never actually happened. It was the only thought that made me hesitate every time I snuck into the girls' room and slept on the floor. "He ever bug you?" I'd asked, too ashamed to ask what I really wanted to. I knew what he was doing to Rita and figured he'd probably done it to Li too. She'd smiled a little, shaking her head, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Nah. I can handle myself." She'd told me, all false bravado and smirks, but I didn't believe her.

In the dream, he'd been beating on the door, the girls sobbing behind me in their beds, and I knew I couldn't fight him off. Not this time. I wanted to kill him. I mean, I'd wanted that before, but this time I held my switchblade in my clenched fist, hands slick as I tried to open it. I'd kill him before I'd let him hurt them...but why hadn't I tried to save Lianne? Because there were so many guys there? Police officers and old greasers...what chance had I had against them? But at least I could have tried! I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. If I kept thinking about it, I'd never get off the sofa.

The only light in the room came from a window by the door, the curtains letting in just enough to make out a lamp and a chair in the corner after my eyes adjusted. Sitting up and running a hand through my hair, I rubbed my eyes and squinted in the dark to get a better look, to no avail. I couldn't hear anyone else in the apartment, so I pulled myself to my feet, flipping on the lamp on the table beside the couch. The light didn't do much good...the dim bulb just showed me that I'd been sleeping on a ratty green couch and that the sofa and chair, along with the table that held the phone and one of the two lamps, were the only things in the room.

I moved into the kitchen, which had a card table and two folding chairs shoved in the corner, an icebox, and a stove surrounded by greenish cabinets. The countertops were dirty, caked on food covering the stove, and a moldy loaf of bread sat on the corner counter. I thought back to the loaf in my bag but decided to keep it to myself. I was starving, and I figured I'd better not start off my visit with this guy by eating his food. Besides, a quick search of his cabinets showed a bag of pretzels, and in the fridge, a half empty bottle of ketchup and a case of beer, none of which looked all that appetizing. I wanted a shower, but I didn't want to go snooping around his house any more than I already had, and I was still exhausted, so I dropped back onto the couch, trying to go back to sleep and ignoring my empty stomach.

The door slammed shut a few hours later, jarring me from a semi-sound and thankfully dreamless sleep. I blinked in the dark, flinching a little when the light was suddenly switched on. James stumbled in, pausing in the middle of the living room to stare at me. "The hell...oh...Dally's kid." He mumbled, rolling his eyes. I didn't dare correct him and only met his eyes for about a millisecond before dropping them back to my lap, glancing up at him occasionally as he spoke. "Bathroom's that way. Don't go in my bedroom. There's no food in the kitchen, so you're on your own." He seemed to think for a minute, then nodded. "Night." He disappeared down the short hall then, slamming the door behind him, and I grabbed the duffel bag Dally had given me, heading into the bathroom to take a shower.

Glancing down at my side in the shower, I flinched a little at the dried blood around the cut which I'd almost forgotten about. That knife hadn't cut me too deep, but I figured I'd better put some of that alcohol on it...and that I'd better get some more alcohol. The hot water stung my face, but I scrubbed it anyway, trying not to look at my arms too close. The blisters still stung, but when I dried off, I just dumped some alcohol onto a rag and practically bathed in it, rubbing it up and down my arms, over the cut on my side, then on my face, using the last of the gauze on my side.

Once I'd cleaned up and changed, I realized I didn't have a toothbrush...or enough food to last me, and the money I'd brought wasn't going to last long. I needed to find a way to make some money. Dally had told me that I might find a job here...that no one would ask too many questions. I figured I'd be okay for a while though if I was careful. Give things down south some time to die down. Job, money, food, toothbrush...my head was spinning and I couldn't quite get a grip on my thoughts. I needed to focus on one thing at a time, but it was too late to go out. Deciding I'd deal with everything later, I headed back to the living room.

When I lay back down, I realized how hot it was in the apartment. That was good, I guessed since I had no idea where any extra blankets were. I'd probably have to figure that out eventually, but for the moment I decided to go back to sleep. There wasn't much to do in an empty apartment that didn't even have a TV, and the third time, I managed to sleep for a solid...well, who knows really. It was daylight outside when I woke, so I decided to get up for good.

There was no audible movement in James's room, so I assumed he was still asleep...or gone. I needed a toothbrush...and food. The food was more pressing since my stomach was cramping with hunger pains. I tried to remember the last time I'd eaten and failed. Probably on the bus. Reaching into my bag, I grabbed the bread and bologna and threw together a sandwich that I scarfed down. I was almost out of bologna, and only had a few pieces of bread left, so I'd have to find some more food. And a toothbrush. That was important too. Grimacing at the taste in my mouth, I went into the bathroom and stole a dab of his toothpaste, swishing it around my mouth with my finger, then rinsing out my mouth.

Since that was the best I could do, I headed back into the living room, checking my wallet and shoving my duffel bag under the sofa. Once it was hidden, I thought about writing a note but remembered what he'd said about babysitting. James didn't care what I did or, most likely, what happened to me. It wasn't a nice thought. I remembered wishing that Darry didn't care quite so much what I got up to and wished I could take all those times back. Heck, I didn't even care that he'd hit me. He hadn't meant to, and besides, I knew now what it was like to be beat up on the regular by the person you lived with. I'd take Darry any time. He hadn't even hit me that hard, and he'd been real sorry.

Making sure to shut the door behind me, I looked around, trying to figure out what time it was. The streets were still busy, cars and bicycles driving back and forth, but mostly it was people that clogged the roads and sidewalks. Greasers, or whatever they called them in New York, and girls in heels and homeless guys in rags...they all walked together, shoulder to shoulder as they fought to get where there were going. I needed to find a grocery store or something, but I had no idea which way to go. Deciding to just start walking and making sure I had the paper with Dally's number in my pocket, I started walking, hoping to find a pay phone soon. I didn't know if he'd be around, but I could try calling.

I found a payphone outside of the first gas station I saw and headed over, slipping a dime into the slot and dialing his number. For a minute, I thought about calling my house. More than anything I wanted to talk to my brothers...but I had no idea what Dally had told them, so I didn't dare. Did they even know I was missing yet? I assumed so, but then again, I didn't know what they would have told them. Did the foster father talk to them? Tell them I was nothing but trouble? Would they believe it? I hoped not.

"Hello," Dally answered, and I took a deep breath, not realizing how relieved I would be to talk to him. I hadn't honestly thought he would answer.

"Hey, Dally."

"Hey, kid. You alright? James giving you any trouble?"

"Nah, I'm alright." No need to mention the fact that James didn't speak to me any more than strictly necessary.

"You...you holding up okay?" He asked hesitantly, and I nodded before I realized how stupid that was.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. How are Darry and Sodapop? They okay? Do they know…"

"Yeah, they know. Cops came by on Tuesday...they didn't report you missing until Monday night, so you've got a head start. They're looking around that bar...and uh...the cops came by again last night. To your house. They found Lianne." I closed my eyes, leaning against the metal above the phone. I couldn't start crying...not here. Not now. Still, I was choking on my words when I managed to talk.

"I didn't do anything."

"Kid, if you'd done anything, you'd be in the ground with her." He reminded me, not unkindly. I sighed.

"Yeah," I mumbled, trying to push the thoughts away. "You...you tell my brothers anything?"

It was his turn to take a deep breath, sighing softly. "When the cops came by...Darry and Soda were freaked, kid. After the cops told 'em about your foster sister. I told 'em I'd looked you up...told 'em about driving you home that day. Your big brother's got a hell of a right hook, kid." He snorted a little, and I had to laugh, not even needing to ask which brother he was referring to.

"Sorry, Dal."

"Don't worry about it. I deserved it."

"No, you didn't. You saved my life."

"Hardly." He snorted. I disagreed, but I wasn't about to argue with him. "Give it a week or two, kid, and I'll figure out how to tell them. Then you can call them, alright?"

"Yeah, okay." He must have known I was dying to talk to them. "I'll let you go, Dal. Thanks again."

"Sure thing. Talk to you later." I hung up the phone, turning and walking down the road once more, keeping an eye out for a grocery store. Finally finding one about a mile away, I slipped inside, glancing around as I grabbed a basket. No one paid any attention to me. A few women were around with toddlers attached to their hands, hurrying to shove food into their baskets, a few of the kids yelling or throwing fits, but they just tugged them along. Everyone was in a hurry here. I dropped my head a little, trying to make myself invisible as I walked down the aisles, grabbing a few boxes of spaghetti and some jars of pasta sauce. Chicken was too expensive, but I grabbed bologna and more bread, then some peanut butter. I started to grab some jelly, but jelly reminded me of Sodapop...it was how he ate his eggs. I left the jelly on the shelf, grabbing a bag of beans instead, and a bag of frozen mixed vegetables, thinking of Darry as I did.

A carton of eggs and a box of cereal for breakfast, a carton of milk, and a bag of rice finished out my food, and after I grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste, I stood in the middle of the aisle, trying to remember if I'd forgotten anything. I'd never had to do all the shopping for myself. Darry had usually had a list if I'd been doing any shopping at all, and as I stared down into my basket I was reminded once more that I needed a job, but at the moment I had no idea how to go about getting one. Deciding that I would worry about one thing at a time, I headed up to the checkout counter, reluctantly handing over the money they asked for and carrying the bags back to the apartment where I put the food away and stood still in the middle of the room, listening for movement but not hearing any. I had no idea if James was home or not, but I figured if he wanted to talk, he'd let me know. From what I'd seen so far, I doubted he would want to talk.

The front door was thrown open with a crash and I jumped, backing against the counter and trying to glance into the living room, but not having any luck. It didn't matter in the end though, because the guy who'd come crashing into the apartment stormed into the kitchen, pausing when he saw me. It wasn't James. This guy was a good head shorter than James, even a little shorter than me, with hair so blond it was almost white and with dark green eyes that stared at me in confusion. "The hell are you?" He asked, apparently distracted from whatever had brought him here.

"Po...Mike." I managed to remember to use my middle name at the last second. He didn't seem to catch it.

The guy stared at me, narrow-eyed for a second, then shook his head. "James!" He yelled, knocking hard on the wall, and I wondered if he was going to dent it. "James! Get out here! I know you're home!"

James came stumbling out of the bedroom, apparently drunk, and rubbed his hand over his face. "What?" He snapped, glancing at me. "What are you doing here, man?

"Who's the kid?"

"That's Mike." I was glad _he_ remembered to use my middle name.

"Yeah, I got that. What's he doing here?"

"None of your business. Now, what are you doing here?" The guy glanced at me again and James rolled his eyes. "Beat it, kid." He ordered, and I nodded slowly.

"Right...see ya." I mumbled, slipping around the guy in the kitchen and hoping they didn't eat any of the food I'd bought. Not pausing to eavesdrop, I closed the door behind me, hurrying down the steps. Whatever it was James was involved in, I didn't even want to know. I had enough to worry about.

Back on the street, I wondered where I was supposed to go. I mean, it was nothing new...getting kicked out of the place I was living. As a matter of a fact, I wondered what it would feel like _not_ getting shooed off anytime the people I lived with wanted me out. Darry and Soda had never done that...never kicked me out of the house. I pushed that thought away quick. I couldn't think about my brothers.

Heading the opposite direction I'd gone earlier, I started walking, hands in my pockets, glancing around at the shops and businesses that lined the streets. Mostly it was just apartment buildings and the occasional filling station or corner shop. No one paid me any mind, and I didn't see any socs around, thankfully. The only guys my age were dressed pretty much like me, worn out jeans and t-shirts that had been washed too many times, and they all ignored me. The cut on my face still hurt, but I hoped it made me look tough enough that they'd leave me alone for good. It was going to leave an awful scar, I was sure. I remembered getting it...the broken beer bottle coming down on my face and the blinding pain that had followed. I was just glad it had missed my eye. I'd managed to land a punch on the guy holding me, slipping away as his knife grazed my side enough to bleed but not enough to do ay permanent damage. The cut on my side was minor next to the one on my face. He'd grabbed my sleeve, and I'd slipped out of the jacket, leaving it behind and taking off.

I walked aimlessly, making sure to keep track of where I was going. The city was like a maze, the alleys full of guys fighting or drinking, and on almost every corner was a guy sitting against a building, their hat upside-down in front of them, some full of coins, some empty. I tried not to make eye contact...with anyone. I thought about going back to that gas station...seeing if that nice guy was still there, but it was a dumb idea. No reason to make myself more memorable than I had to. I needed to lie low, and if people came looking, hopefully, there was no one around who could ID me. Then again, I figured it couldn't hurt to disguise myself, at least a little. Ducking into another corner market and keeping my head down, I scoured the aisles until I found the peroxide.

 **Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	8. Visitors

_**JjjjjThank you so much to everyone who has read and especially to those who reviewed. It makes my day, and I try to respond to all of them :)**_

 _ **I got one guest reviewer who asked how often I update. So I have quite a bit of this story already written, and am working several chapters ahead, so I try to update and post a new one every 5-7 days. :)**_

 _Visitors_

The knock on the door jolted me awake on Monday evening. I'd fallen asleep after work, laying back in the recliner in front of the TV like an old man, which was something I was doing more often now. I figured Sodapop was in his room...his and Pony's room.  
/He'd moved into our kid brother's room little by little, first just sleeping in there, then moving his clothes, then the rest of his stuff. Pony certainly hadn't seemed to mind, so I hadn't been about to said anything. It had kept Pony from having  
/so many of those nightmares...nightmares that made him wake up screaming some nights. They had woken the rest of us too, but with Soda close by, he could calm him down and get him back to sleep, two things our brother was better at than I was.

Soda snuck around the house these days, making sure not to slam the door when he came home and went straight to his room so he wouldn't wake me. Most nights he'd make dinner too, leaving me some on the stove, going to bed without waking me. Sometimes  
/he'd go out with Steve...not often. Not anymore. Tim had asked me about him once...Sodapop hadn't been going to his poker games or hanging out around town. The guys weren't hanging around the house as much either, and I wondered absently where Dally  
/was as I rubbed my eyes. He wouldn't be knocking...he hadn't been around much lately, especially since the cop had told us that Pony was missing and Sodapop had asked him to keep an eye out.

All of the guys has been asking around, looking for my little brother everywhere. Heck, Two-Bit had even checked under our house. I think he'd just been goofing around, and Soda had laughed a little, but I'd seen the disappointment in his eyes when Two-Bit  
/hadn't found him anywhere. I'd gone to the movies more in the last week than I think I had in my entire life. I wasn't sure why he'd be hiding in a movie house instead of coming to me. At work, both while on the roof and at my warehouse job, I found  
/myself looking for him, glancing around and finding it hard to keep my head on my job, which was how I'd nearly fallen off the roof the day before and hurt my back.

It had been almost a week since the cop had come by, and still, there was no word. That was always my first thought when I woke up...where was my brother? It had been since the day they'd taken him away, and now, after that cop had found his jacket...they  
/still hadn't found a body. That's what I kept telling myself...Soda too. Nothing much got his spirits up these days, though, no matter how hard I tried. The guys were trying too, taking Soda out whenever he'd go, trying to take his mind off of everything,  
/and Tim had all his guys looking out for Pony too. It seemed the whole city was looking for my brother, but still no luck.

Jumping up, I yanked the door open, hoping against hope to find Ponyboy or at least a cop with some answers. Instead, I found two guys, both pretty tough looking, who regarded me nervously. Both were almost my height, probably Soda's age, though. I'd  
/never seen them around, and they wore their hair short, cropped and combed back but not greased. They weren't greasers, that was for sure, but they weren't socs, which was obvious as they wore old jeans and scuffed up sneakers. They were pretty similar  
/looking, and I figured they must be brothers, or cousins or something.

Behind me, I heard Soda come into the living room. Steve and Two-Bit had gone out somewhere with Johnny and Dal, so I wasn't looking for them to come around anytime soon. We were on our own in the house now, but Soda and I could take them if it was a  
/fight they wanted for whatever reason. I didn't recognize them but it didn't matter much. I hadn't had the chance to beat anyone up lately, and I felt like a good fight might make me feel better. "Can I help you?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaning  
/against the doorjamb. Behind them, parked in our street, was a beat up old car that Steve would love to get a hold of. Soda stood at my side, his arms crossed as we blocked the door.

"Yeah...you Ponyboy's brothers?" I narrowed my eyes, flinching a little at my little brother's name. No one talked about him around me...not after Steve had made some stupid joke and I'd almost broken his jaw. I kind of wished I had.

I nodded slowly, a knot forming in my stomach. "We are. Who're you?"

"His other brothers." The slightly shorter one smirked as he said it, the amused expression dropping after only a half second. "We shared a house with him for a bit before he went missing." I nodded, glancing back at Soda. I knew from his expression that  
/he, too, was wondering what they were doing here.

"We...uh...we need to talk to you. If that's alright." The taller one was quieter, not at all amused by any of this. In fact, he looked kind of worried, glancing around like a gang of hoods was gonnna jump him any second. They really weren't from around  
/here. Nodding, I stepped back.

"Come on in." I invited, gesturing for them to come into the living room.

"I'm Mark." The taller one introduced himself, holding out a hand that I shook. "This is my cousin, Tyler."

"Darrel. This is Sodapop." They both smiled a bit faintly at that.

"Ponyboy and Sodadpop huh?" Tyler asked, smirking a bit again, but not mean. I knew Soda wouldn't take it well though. Then he kept talking, taking both of us aback when he softened a little. "Ponyboy told us he had a brother named Sodapop. How'd you  
/get the normal name?" I shrugged.

"Named after our dad," I told him shortly.

Tyler smiled. "We thought he was kidding at first...he was a pretty quiet kid, but he used to yell for you two in his sleep for the first week or so. Woke us up about every night. The rest of the house, too." Mark grimaced at that, but not like he was  
/upset with Pony.

"How did the rest of the house take that?" I asked flatly. I couldn't think about my little brother yelling for me every night. Not now, when I needed to hold myself together. Mark clenched his jaw, not meeting my eyes, but Tyler was brave enough to talk  
/to me.

"You gotta understand something, okay? We lived with my dad for a long time, but the bastard just about killed us. Hell, he hit me with a truck once, and that wasn't the worst of it. We got put in four different foster homes after they took us away from  
/him...we were twelve. Mark's dad died when he was four." If Mark minded his cousin telling this story he sure didn't show it. "The first place was...it was bad. I missed my dad most nights. He wasn't as bad as those people. The second one had seven  
/other kids, all older than us, and the third lasted until our foster parents, a real old couple had to go into a home or something. So we were really hoping this one would be the last one. I'll be eighteen in less than four months. Mark's birthday  
/is a few weeks after."

Mark took over then, quieter but still tough sounding. His eyes were flat, looking at us but not really seeing us. "We were put in that house a year ago, and it was bad from the start. There were some older guys and girls then, but they're all gone except  
/for one. Rita's been in that house for years...she's only got a month left. The others tried to beat on us, but we'd learned how to fight growing up...still, it was like living in a war zone until those guys were gone. Then last year...the foster  
/dad, Richard...he started drinking more, especially after work. Always in a lousy mood. He'd always hit you if you got too close, but then he started coming to find us." Soda blinked a few times, glancing over at me. I, too, was having trouble keeping  
/up.

"The worst part is, he's got friends. Everywhere." Tyler told us. "He'd have his friends from the police force over for dinner one night, then a bunch of bartenders and hoods the next...no offense." I rolled my eyes but was too concerned with where this  
/story was going to correct him. "Then there were the social workers. He loved them. He'd have em over on the weekends when his wife was out working a second job. So you can see why we were willing to lay low...keep our traps shut and wait."

"Then eight months ago, a girl moves in. She's fifteen...smart mouthed and rude, but most fifteen-year-olds are." I knew Steve would agree with Mark on that. Beside me, Soda was getting kind of pale, and I hoped this story didn't go where I thought it  
/was going.

Tyler chimed in, apparently taking turns with Mark in telling us this awful story. "She was only there a month before she disappeared. The cops made an effort, I guess, but good old Ricky told them she'd been threatening to run since the day she got there…that  
/she wanted to go back to her family. Of course, her family's in Kansas...lots of stuff can happen to a fifteen-year-old girl between here and there, huh?"

I leaned in a little, the knot in my stomach growing. "You think…"

Mark cut me off. "Your brother showed up next. Rick hated him from the start. That kid was smart."

"Is." Sodapop cut in, his eyes cold. "He _is_ smart."

Mark nodded slowly but didn't comment on the interruption. "To answer your question, though, Rick didn't take too kindly at all to being woken up in the middle of the night. He took it out on the kid about every night unless he was passed out, too drunk  
/to notice."

"Took it out on him?" Soda asked too quietly. I remembered how Pony would wake up from the nightmares sometimes, wide-eyed and crying as he would cling to Soda and fight to get his breath. I didn't know if I could hear this.

"Knock him upside the head. Kick him, if the kid tried to get away from him. That ain't the worst, though. Your kid brother, he's a smoker." He told us a bit hesitantly. I nodded, showing him I already knew that...I didn't know how to take any of this  
/in. I wanted to demand the address, follow them home and kill someone...but how would I ever get my brother back from prison? "Kid smokes like a chimney. Rick has a method of breaking smokers. Anytime he caught us doing it, he'd put 'em out on our  
/arms, and if we were lucky, he'd leave it at that." I thought Sodapop might throw up...heck, I thought _I_ might throw up. I wanted to meet this guy and put some cigarettes on out _his_ arms...then kill him. Hell, I'd shove those cigarettes  
/down his throat if I caught him touching my brother...but he already had. Still, I had to ask.

Mark shifted, holding his wrist like it was hurting him, and pulled up his sleeve. Beside me, I felt Sodapop go stiff, making a noise like he was gonna throw up. I couldn't react though...it was like all the air had been sucked out of the living room.  
/"He did that to Pony?" My voice was rough and quiet...I was ready to kill. My eyes were hot and I was afraid I'd start bawling in front of these strangers. Dally had mentioned that Pony had been wearing long sleeves...like he was moving like he was  
/hurting, but to hear them confirm it...I was going to kill this guy.

"The kid wouldn't quit," Tyler told us, an admiring light in his eyes. He kind of reminded me of Dally. "I'll give him that...he was determined to smoke...well, up until the end. We'd hear him screaming on the porch at night and we knew he'd been caught.  
/After that first time though, about a week after he came to live with us, your kid brother made a big mistake. He talked to the social worker."

"The social worker that Rick was sleeping with." Mark put in, eyes downcast. I wondered if he'd made the same mistake at some point.

"Rick told him he'd kill him...or something like that. Told him he'd come after you two, too. The kid was quieter after that, but he still smoked and he still made smart remarks sometimes...got himself punished plenty. He wore long-sleeved shirts to school,  
/even when it was hot out. He quit talking altogether after a couple of months...until the girl came. Her name was Lianne."

"The one they...found?" I asked, remembering our conversation with the cop and wondering if they'd been close. Tyler sighed.

"Yeah. She was mouthy, like the other girl. The first time Rick caught her smoking, he tried that old trick. Ponyboy grabbed her cigarette before he could get to it and threw it out the window. The girl was smart...she beat it out of there, and Rick got  
/him right in the face...had him down and was kicking him before his wife told him he'd better stop. Just like that." Tyler grinned bitterly. "'Ricky you better stop...don't wanna kill him.' Bitch. She's as bad as he is."

"Was...did he…" Soda was struggling for words and Mark took pity on him. I was glad Soda had asked...I certainly couldn't. All I could see was red, but still, I had to hear this

"He got up. Probably pissed blood for a few days, but the girl sure didn't smoke at the house after that. She apologized to him. He didn't care though. He kept an eye out for her. Protected her whenever he could. But he couldn't always...Rick...I can't  
/be sure, but her and Rita…" He trailed off, ears kind of red as he looked away, and I wondered if he was embarrassed to tell us or ashamed that he hadn't stopped it.

"There wasn't nothing we could do. Like I said, he had friends, and one girl had already disappeared." Tyler told us in a hard voice, as though we'd accused him.

"Pony?" Soda asked in a strangled voice. I couldn't even talk...couldn't even imagine someone doing something like that to my baby brother.

"No," Mark told us simply. "The kid shared a room with us when he slept at the house. We would have known. He didn't go for boys anyway."

"What do you mean, 'when he slept at the house?'" I asked, forcing the words out. Where had Ponyboy been sleeping?

"Kid left in the middle of the night most nights, especially after the social worker brought him back. Most times he'd sneak back into our room in the morning. Rick didn't care, and we didn't pay too much attention. He looked after himself." I wanted  
/to tell them that he was only fourteen...fifteen now. That he shouldn't have had to look after himself yet. But that wasn't their problem. There was a brief silence, but it seemed Tyler was anxious to have this over with.

"A few days ago, Lianne started screaming at him. He'd been beating on her and she was fighting back...she usually did. He'd give her a black eye and he'd get a bloody nose for his troubles. Called him a good for nothing pig. Told him she hoped he got  
/shot by one of his worthless friends. Then she told him she was gonna tell the cops what he did to us until someone listened. He told her she'd regret that. Then…"

"We ain't testifying against him." Mark told us suddenly, interrupting his cousin. "What we're telling you...well, it's your word against ours. Bet anything Rita won't talk either. Hell, Rita barely talks as it is. I don't know if she'll ever be right  
/after all this. As soon as I turn eighteen, we're getting the hell out of here. Canada or Mexico or something...somewhere he can't reach. He's dangerous. We're just telling you because…"

"Because you deserve to know." Tyler looked at us, waiting. "Savvy?"

I hated both of them, even if I had no right to. In their situation, I'd do anything to protect my family, even if it meant someone else had to suffer for it. I knew the score, though. That Rick guy had too many friends in too many places for us to fight  
/him. By ourselves, anyway, but these guys didn't know what kind of friends we had. I thought of Tim and his gang...of Dally and whatever strings those two could pull. I'd owe them for life but it would be worth it. Hell, maybe we could even find a  
/cop that didn't hate greasers and who would be on our side. I thought about the cop who'd come to the house a few days ago. At the moment, though, I needed to know what had happened to Ponyboy. So I nodded.

"Tell me what happened to my little brother."

"To be honest, we don't know a whole lot. It was Sunday...or real early Monday morning. Probably one o'clock. Lianna and Ponyboy weren't around. Ponyboy usually split on the weekends, but he was always back for school Monday so no one cared. Rick liked  
/it better when we made ourselves pretty scarce on his days off anyway. He figured that out real quick." Tyler told us. "We got back late on Sunday night and heard Rick come in. We were in the kitchen...he was bloody, like he'd been shot or something.  
/Had a broken nose and a black eye. A friend of his...an old cop who'd been his buddy growing up and who'd kill for him now, told him 'they'd find that little shit.'"

"They didn't see us," Mark explained. "He told the cop they'd better find him...said he wasn't losing everything over some kid. We didn't know who he was talking about until he told the cop he never should have taken in 'that piece of shit boy' a few  
/months ago. We hightailed it outta there and slept with a friend. He was on the warpath. Lianne didn't come back. Neither did Ponyboy, but on Monday night, before they called the cops, the bitch told us to tell the cops that we'd seen Ponyboy and  
/Lianne leaving for school that morning."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "She was nervous. They probably figured three missing kids in a year was bound to get attention, no matter how many friends her husband had. We did what she said. Like I said, we're getting out soon."

Sodapop was staring at them, eyes wide and flat like he was in shock. Mark met his gaze, then leaned in. "I don't think Rick's found him yet. He's probably on the run." I glanced over at Sodapop and knew he was thinking what I was thinking. They found  
/his jacket, covered in blood. What did that mean? "The police brought the kid's file to the house, even though his family was supposed to be confidential, at least until you two got a hearing to get him back. So Rick knows who you are now. You got  
/friends?"

"Oh yeah." I knew Soda was thinking of Tim and his gang, and all the pals Dally had around the city.

"Keep 'em close. Real close." Tyler told us, starting to get up. "When Ponyboy first got to the house, we tried to rough him up a bit...show him that we weren't letting some hood take over our place. Kid fought back...he's tough. He never messed with  
/our stuff though, and he kept to himself. He's a good kid, and I hope you find him before Rick does." And then they were standing, nodding goodbye. Right before they got to the door, though, Mark turned.

"By the way, a few months ago, right after Lianne got put with us, some guy gave Ponyboy a ride home from school. Tough looking guy...they sat out in his car in front of the house before Lianne told Ponyboy he'd better come in...Rick was on his way home.  
/He didn't go to our school, as far as I know. Long, blond hair, but not greasy like the kid's. Leather jacket. We saw him around sometimes, driving by the house, but we only saw him with the kid once." I exchanged a look with Sodapop, knowing we were  
/both thinking the same thing. Dallas Winston.

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.**


	9. Sanctuary

**_Thank you to everyone who has read or reviewed this story! I hope you enjoy the new chapter._**

 ** _**I reposted this chapter because of an issue with the website :)**_**

 _Sanctuary_

Somehow, my life had fallen into some sort of joke of a routine. When I'd been living at home with Darry and Sodapop, it had been go to school, do homework, hang out with the guys. First one up makes breakfast, the other two clean up. Go to the movies sometimes on the weekends, but ask Darry first. Watch out for socs, both at school at outside of it. Play cards with Johnny. Go to the races with Sodapop when Steve didn't throw a fit about it. Rumble sometimes, but usually things were pretty quiet. Toward the end, it had been a lot of trying to avoid being around Darry too, but looking back, he had never been too bad. I mean, sure he'd gotten on me a lot, but at least he'd cared about me. At the time, I'd thought he hated me. I'd been sure of it. But now I knew what someone hating me looked like.

At the boy's home, my life had changed abruptly into a more structured hell. Wake up at six-thirty. Breakfast. School was held in the building next door, then lunch, more school, and then some time outside in a yard surrounded by a giant fence topped with barbed wire. Not that I'd ever thought to try and climb out. I was determined not to get into any kind of trouble and risk getting back to my brothers, so when a couple of older guys had tried pushing me around, I'd backed down immediately. Thankfully I didn't have anything for them to steal, so they'd left me alone. After the outside free time, it was back to our rooms, which I'd shared with three other guys. Two bunk beds and two desks were crammed in the little room, and we all would theoretically take turns with the desks. I never bothered using it, just doing my homework in my top bunk.

The guy on the bottom bunk was about my age, and I don't think I ever heard him say a word. He had a group of friends I didn't try to join, and was rarely in the room, as he snuck out all the time. In the other bed were two younger guys, one about eleven, then other thirteen. They were chatty and friendly enough, and although we rarely had any kind of conversation, I was just grateful they weren't the kind of guys to beat on people like some of the other guys at the boy's home. Plus I could have taken them if it came to it. And they didn't complain or nothing when I woke up screaming almost every night, just sighing in the dark and rolling over in their beds. The guy under me would just kick my bed, and I'd jerk awake, mumbling an apology they all ignored.

I'd been able to call Sodapop twice when I'd been in that place, both times during a break between classes when I was supposed to be at my locker or making my way to algebra. I'd snuck into the common room where the kids who were allowed to call home made their calls. In the morning, the room was usually empty, and I'd snuck in. I'd tried to sneak into the room at lunch too, hoping to call Soda again, but the guards were always walking around during lunch. It wasn't like I'd had any kind of appetite when I was there...I regretted that when I moved into Richard's house. I should have stocked up when I had the chance. Anyway, I'd spent lunch in the library, doing homework and avoiding anyone who'd try and talk to me. During our breaks, I'd run on the track, which became harder and harder when I didn't eat anything for lunch, and I knew the teachers were getting concerned. Then I'd been called into the office to be told that I was going to a foster home.

Now, in New York, I had a whole new routine. Wake up when James came stomping out of his bedroom, or into his bedroom...or when someone pounded on the door, wanting him for some reason or another. If none of that happened, I'd wake when the sun came in through the curtains that barely managed to keep the light out. I'd go into the kitchen and eat some of my dwindling supply of cereal, or make eggs. Surprisingly, James wasn't eating any of the food I'd bought. Come to think of it...I never actually saw him eat. Heck, I didn't really see him around period. Anyway, after I ate, I'd walk around the city, keeping my head down and trying to entertain myself. It rarely worked, but I was getting exercise, I guess. Eventually, I'd go back to James's place and fix dinner, then go to bed early. He didn't have a TV, or any books. Before bed, I'd take a shower and clean the cut on my face which was scabbing over, but still looked awful. Thankfully the one on my side wasn't deep, and it was pretty much healing fine.

On Saturday, I couldn't take it anymore and went into the filling station closest to the apartment, hanging around the counter until the guy came out of the store room, nodding to me. "Hey. What can I do for ya?" He asked, adjusting the cap on his head. He had grease on his hands and it brought back memories of my brother, how he'd be covered in the stuff whenever I'd stop by the station during lunch or on my way home from school. The pain hit me in my chest for a second before I shook it off. I couldn't fall apart in front of some stranger. It was better not to think about Soda...glory I missed him so much.

"Hey...um...can you tell me where the library is?" I fought the urge to elaborate...to make up some story about how I had a project or how I'd just moved here. Less was more. Hadn't I learned that yet?"

"Closest one is…" He thought for a second. "About three miles from here...maybe four. It's pretty small, though. You know where Union is?"

I didn't really, but I knew if I kept walking on Tory I'd get there, thanks to the other gas station guy. "Yeah."

"Okay, turn right on Union and you'll hit it eventually."

"Thanks, man." He nodded, giving a half wave when I turned to go. I followed his directions, walking on Union for what felt like forever in the boiling sun until I finally reached a brick building with a rounded front, a flag flying high on a pole in the grass out front. The sign out front welcomed me to the New York Public Library. It was about the size of the library in Tulsa, only it was one story instead of two. I didn't care, though. It was a library, so it was good enough for me.I walked through the front doors, sighing in relief at the cool air. It was hot out, and my newly blond hair was sweaty on my neck. I didn't grease

I walked through the front doors, sighing in relief at the cool air. It was hot out, and my newly blond hair was sweaty on my neck. I didn't grease it since I didn't have hair grease and hadn't bothered buying any. Instead, I let it hang however it wanted, the peroxide yellow a shock every time I looked in the mirror. It made me look even younger, and I still looked scared all the time, so all in all it wasn't a great image, but at least I looked different. The first time James had seen it, he'd just lifted an eyebrow, then shrugged, heading out the door without a word, slinging his jacket over his shoulder and going...well, wherever he disappeared to all the time.

The librarian, an old lady with glasses and her hair tight in a bun, smiled at me as I entered, her eyes wary, but the smile friendly enough. "Good morning." She greeted me, almost suspicious but not quite. It was a Saturday, so there were a couple of people my age around, and thankfully it was summer vacation, so I could come by anytime I wanted. If I was here after school got back in though, I'd have to wait until two or three to come over. In the children's area, a few toddlers sat with their mom's or grandma's, all reading books together.

"Good morning." I greeted, smiling a little and losing the battle to look her in the eye. The asshole had broken me of that the first week. If you look down, you're less likely to be noticed.

"Can I help you find anything?"

"No thanks." I pushed my hair back, nodding and heading toward the adult section. I missed books...and drawing. And TV, come to think of it, but books most of all. I wished I could have brought a book with me, but I'd left them all at home...my real home. And I couldn't check them out without a library card. Still, I could spend all day reading on some days at least, so I found a book by some guy named JRR Tolkien that I hadn't read before and sat down in a chair in the back, opening the first page and remaining there until my stomach started growling. I sighed, making note of what page I was on, then put the book back on the shelf, hoping no one checked it out that week.

"Young man, you know you can check out the books here and take them home to read." I jumped a little when the old lady appeared beside me, then smiled ruefully.

"I, uh...just moved here. I don't have a library card."

She squinted at me. "How old are you?" She wanted to know. I froze, feeling my face get pale. I didn't need people asking questions about me.

"Seventeen," I told her, going with Soda's age.

"If you can get your parent to bring you, we can get you a library card." I shook my head, panicked for real then.

"I...um...can't. I...they don't live here. I'm...with a foster family. They won't…" I shook my head, shoving my hands in my pockets, and she clucked softly under her breath. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice our conversation. At least I wouldn't match a description of myself now.

"Alright. Well, you're welcome to come in and ready anytime." She told me quietly, the smile a little gentler this time. I thanked her, hurrying off and wondering if it was worth the risk to return in a few days. By the time I reached the apartment, I'd decided that it was. I'd go insane without at least being able to read a few times a week. Besides, I was dying to know how that book ended.

On Sunday, I woke early to the sound of church bells and, on impulse, jumped off the sofa, cleaned up as best I could in front of the bathroom mirror and walked out the door. I hadn't been to church in ages...not since Two-Bit had embarrassed me out of going to the one in Tulsa. But no one around here knew me, Two-Bit wasn't around to drop any hymnals, and besides, I had nothing better to do on a Sunday since the library was closed. If I had to sit around that apartment all day I'd go crazy.

I walked in the direction of the bus station, sure I'd seen a church on my way, and sure enough, I found a baptist church down the road tucked into a street corner, the steeple rising up in the sky like a pointing finger. Figuring one church was as good as the next, I slipped inside.

I quickly realized my mistake when I stepped into the sanctuary. Every single person in the church had dark skin. There wasn't a white face in the crowd, and I wondered if this was how the handful of black kids at my old school had felt when they'd stepped into a classroom. Several members of the congregation turned to stare at me with raised eyebrows, others with amused or even angry looks and any hope I had of blending in went out the windows. The soft chatter dulled to whispers as they elbowed each other, gesturing back to the back of the sanctuary where I stood alone.

I felt my face turn bright red as I froze in place, wishing I'd taken a look around before entering. The women all wore long gloves, and most of them were fanning themselves with paper fans tucked into the seats. All the ladies were in nice dresses and hats, and the men all wore suits, down to the teenagers. Even the youngest kids were dressed real nice, all gawking at me like I was a circus animal or something. One little boy whispered something to his mom, and she shushed him, turning around quickly and pulling him with her.

An usher hesitated when I did, meeting my eyes. He was an older guy with snow white hair in tufts on the side of his head, and after a moment, he handed me a bulletin that I took with red ears and an apologetic smile, mumbling a 'thanks.' I got the feeling I wasn't supposed to be there, but everyone had already seen me enter, including the pastor who stood at the front of the little room, apparently about to start his sermon, and I was too embarrassed to turn and run, so I slipped into the back pew, right up against the corner by myself, and the pastor chose that moment to start speaking. Thankfully, everyone turned back around in their pews then...all but one girl who met my eyes. I recognized her then as the girl I'd seen in the alley my first day. She had one eyebrow raised just like Two-Bit, the corner of her mouth turned down in an almost angry look, and I gave her a hesitant smile. Snorting, she turned around in her pew, shaking her head at the man sitting beside her.

I stared at the floor while the pastor talked, but I quickly remembered why I'd liked going to church so much. The people here were more vocal than they had been at the one my mom had taken us to when we were kids, but despite the occasional loud 'amen' or 'glory' thrown out there, the message was the same. I'd never really sat down to read the Bible except in Sunday school when Mom had taken us, and I just knew the basic stories, but it was real nice to sit in a church and listen to someone talk about God and life and how people ought to be good to each other. It was a nice thought, and I'd always believed in God, even if I didn't know much about praying or church or religion. So for almost two hours, I stared at the floor and tried to learn something.

When it seemed like they were saying the last prayer, I slipped out, closing the door as quietly as possible so no one would hear me leave, and hurried down the sidewalk, back toward the apartment. "Hey! Wait a second!" I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder and finding the girl from church and from the alley hurrying after me in her pink dress and white gloves. Her hair was done up in braids and I thought she looked awful nice, but I couldn't exactly say it to a stranger. She'd think I was creepy or worse. "What was that about?" She demanded, hands on her hips.

"What was what about?" I asked hesitantly, looking around for witnesses and finding none. It seemed even New York was quieter on Sundays. The occasional person walking by on the sidewalk paid us no mind.

"Don't play dumb. Why'd you come to our church?"

"Just felt like it," I answered with a shrug.

"What, ain't enough white churches around for ya?" I flinched at the accusation. "What are you playing at? 'Cause if you're trying to start trouble…"

"I ain't trying to start anything!" I snapped, crossing my arms and fighting to keep eye contact. I'd never had trouble with that before the asshole. Glory but I hated that man. It probably wasn't good to think that kind of thing on Sunday after church, but I did. "I just moved here and I wanted to go to church."

"You?" She asked dubiously, looking me up and down, and my ears got real hot. I knew I looked bad and that my clothes weren't nice. She sure didn't have to point it out. My eyes burned and I cursed myself for being such a baby. So what if they didn't want me there. I was used to people not wanting me places. I was a greaser, right?

"Sorry I ain't good enough for your lousy church. I'll find a new one next week!" I snapped, turning to storm off and flinching when she caught my arm.

"Hey! Wait." She seemed softer, glancing around just like I had earlier and seeming relieved when no one was around. "I didn't mean...look, sometimes the boys around here like to come to our church and start trouble. They're nasty...they spray paint the walls or set off cherry bombs during service. We call the cops but they don't much care." Her hand remained on my arm for a minute until I stared down at it and she let go. "I was scared you were gonna try something like that."

"I just wanted to go to church," I told her softly. "My mom used to take me." I shouldn't have told her that. It was better not to let anyone know anything real about me, but I was getting real tired of being alone. She nodded, looking like she wanted to touch my arm again, but not moving to do it.

"Mine too, before she died. It's just me and my dad now." I nodded but didn't say anything. I'd already said too much. "I"m Sue, by the way." I thought of Two-Bit's little sister and smiled a little, doing my best to meet her eyes.

"Mike," I told her, almost used to it by now.

"I didn't thank you before...for helping me out." I shrugged, not bothering to ask how she'd recognized me with blond hair. She told me anyway. "It's the eyes." She pointed to her own.

"Don't mention it."

"Alright. You can come back to church next week if you want. We have dinner sometimes after the service if you're hungry."

"Thanks." She nodded, smiling a little again.

"See you around Mike." She waved, walking backward for a minute before turning away, back toward the church, reminding me of Two-Bit. I felt the corners of my mouth turn up as I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"See ya," I called, turning and making my way back to the apartment. James was eating lunch when I got back and just stared at me for a minute. I stared too...it was the first time I'd seen him eat. He took another bite of the sandwich, swallowing and learning back in his chair.

"What, you go to church?" He asked, snorting a little like he was making a joke. I just nodded and he shook his head, rolling his eyes, mumbling 'weird kid' under his breath. But as I put together a sandwich of my own, I felt his gaze following me. I avoided meeting his eyes, staring down at my food, then carrying it, head down, into the living room and sitting on the couch. He followed me after a second, sandwich in hand. " _You_ seriously go to church?"

"Yeah." I hated that I felt like I'd done something wrong. My ears were still hot and I hoped he didn't notice.

"Where'd Dallas find you anyway, kid?" I hesitated, glancing up at him, head down as I nibbled at my food. "C'mon, who am I gonna tell?"

"Oklahoma," I told him quietly. He knew my name anyway. Not like there were a lot of 'Ponyboy's' around.

"Shit. That's a hell of a walk. You hitch a ride?"

"Nope. Took the bus." He nodded, crossing his arms, sandwich hanging limply at his side.

"So you're a friend of Dal's…" I nodded, not sure where this conversation was going, but feeling like I should add something if he was taking the time to talk to me.

"Yeah, my big brothers mostly...but me too."

"Your big brothers do that to ya?" He asked, gesturing to my face. I shook my head, fighting the urge to get defensive. It was a valid question, considering how I'd just shown up to his place.

"No. Other guys. A couple of guys." He nodded slowly, regarding me for a moment.

"No one around here's gonna mess with ya, so don't worry about that." My mouth dropped open a little and I turned to stare at him head on.

"Thanks." I told him after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Don't mention it, kid. Dallas told me that your brother would come up here himself if anything happened to you, and I ain't itching to die anytime soon." I laughed a little at the smile in his voice. He hadn't been friendly with me before and it was like a weight off my chest to have someone to talk to, even if it was just for a few minutes.

"He ain't so bad." I told him, dropping my eyes again.

"Dally said he was big?" I glanced up and he was grinning. I grinned too, and let myself think about Darry for the first time in a long time. He was tall...a lot taller than me. He had biceps as big around as my head. Sometimes before a rumble or just walking down the street, he'd crouch down and I'd jump on his back. He'd carry me down the street, my arms around his neck, his hands on my legs holding me up. He'd wake me up by tickling me. He made me breakfast almost every morning. He checked over my homework to make sure I was doing okay. He never let anyone hurt me, and when one of the guys would get too rough when we'd wrestle or something, he'd always pull them off.

I nodded, hating how my eyes were heating up. "Yeah. He's real big."

"What do they do? Your brothers?"

"Darry, the big one...he roofs houses and works at a warehouse sometimes. My other brother works at a filling station." He hummed. I wanted to ask him what he did for a living, but I didn't want to push it. He was being almost friendly, and it had been a while since anyone had been real friendly...since I'd had an actual conversation with anyone besides Dally and maybe that girl, Sue. I thought again about calling Dally, but I didn't want to bug him, calling all the time. I wanted to talk to Darry and Soda, but I didn't know what was going on down there. Maybe they didn't know that Dally had helped me and I didn't want to be the one to tell them.

There was a short knock on the door, more like someone beating their fist against the door once then shoving it open. I sat back against the sofa, waiting, and the same guy from before barged in, sparing me a glance before turning to James and jabbing a thumb in my direction. "He still here?"

"Apparently. What do you want?" James snapped, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"We gotta talk. There's some…" He glanced at me. "Beat it, kid." He glared at me and I started to stand, but James reached down, pushing me back down on the sofa.

"I gotta be somewhere anyway. C'mon. We'll head to T's." The guy nodded, glancing at me one more time and following James out the door.

"See ya, kid." James called, slamming the door behind him. I guessed that was progress. Finishing my sandwich I lay down on the sofa even though it was only about noon. There wasn't much to do though, and I didn't feel like taking a walk around the city, so I closed my eyes, wondering if it would be okay to buy a notebook or something. At least then I could draw. The thought stayed with me as I stared at the ceiling until I couldn't stand it anymore, jumping up and shoving some loose change into my pocket.

 _ **Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**_


	10. Explanations

**_Hello everyone. I just wanted to say thank you for all of you who reviewed and read my story._**

 ** _Also, the website was having some issues so there wasn't a notification for my last chapter, so hopefully everything is fixed!_**

Explanations

My brother was gone. My brother was gone. My brother was gone. It was like a record player had gotten stuck, the needle scratching and replaying the same tune over and over. Not that we had a record player. Just the radio. The radio never got stuck. My brother was gone. My brother was gone. It hurt…oh glory it hurt more than anything ever had, even our parents. Our parents had been in their forties. They'd gone quick, or so the police had said, and they'd gone together and it had been an accident. And it had hurt. It had hurt like nothing before it, but I'd had Sodapop and Ponyboy to look after! I couldn't fall apart because my brothers needed me!

My little brother was fourteen…no…fifteen. He'd turned fifteen without us and now he'd always be fifteen. He'd never danced with a girl or shaved or learned to drive or done anything my little brother was supposed to do some day. He was gone. Those two boys had told us that the man hadn't gotten him yet, but what did they know? If Pony was in trouble like they'd described, he'd come to us, or go to the fuzz or something! And that man knew all the police around and the hoods and everyone else in town apparently. So…so he'd died alone. Would they find his body in the woods close to where they'd found that girl's? Had it been quick? Had he known how much I loved him?

I'd been afraid from the moment they took him, and every time something new happened, I thought the fear and the pain couldn't get worse. First they'd taken him away from us. Then he'd called Sodapop begging to come home. Then he'd been moved to a foster home. Then he'd gone missing. And now…I'd tried so hard to hope…to believe that he'd gotten away if only to help Sodapop get through this. But there was no way a fifteen-year-old could get away from these guys and hide out for this long, not without help. And who was there to help him!?

The whole gang came back after about an hour and found us on the same spot on the couch. I couldn't move. I couldn't comfort Soda. My brother was gone. Two-Bit, who had been laughing at something Steve had said, stopped abruptly, having seen us first, and the other three paused as well, watching us. "You two alright?" He asked, arms crossed. Steve came in and sat in the place where those boys had been, Johnny beside him, while Dal took my recliner. He was the one I wanted to talk to, but I knew the whole gang needed to know. I needed their help...more now than I had before. Tim too. The police. Social services. Surely someone could get this guy.

Like they could sense that things weren't right…that something serious was going on, they all waited, watching us closely to take their cues. I was glad to have them. Glad to have friends that gave a shit about us and our family and our little brother. Our little brother. The baby of the family. Not even old enough to like girls yet. My brother was gone. It had been so long since I'd let myself really sit down and think about how desperately I missed Ponyboy, but I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I had this conversation. My stomach clenched at the thought. I didn't want to have this conversation. I didn't want to face the facts that I already knew. My brother was gone.

Two-Bit stayed on his feet at our side, arms crossed tight as he watched me. He was a goofball, but he was also the oldest of our friends. I know he looked out for Pony, or had, anyway, and Johnny as much as Dal did. He was pretty friendly, even with socs, but when he needed to be, he could also be a dangerous enemy...he didn't _just_ carry that black handled switch for decoration. "We just had some visitors." I told them, looking over at Soda who nodded wordlessly. I could tell he was still processing. Or maybe he was in the same place I was, stuck on repeat, remembering our brother the day they took him and realizing that was the last we'd ever see of him. I didn't even know how I was talking, it hurt so bad, but my mouth seemed to be on autopilot.

"What kind of visitors?" Steve wanted to know.

"Two guys...they live in that house where Pony was."

"What did they say?" I realized that they were getting impatient, waiting for me to tell them more. Soda spoke up then, telling our buddies what I couldn't manage to say.

"Said that guy they live with, the foster father, beats on them...beat on Ponyboy." Two-Bit went kind of still at that, dark eyes glittering. Johnny went kind of pale too, even though his own family beat on him. I was glad Pony had had a friend like Johnny Cade. I mean...we'd all sort of known, at least some of it. Dally had told us about the black eye, but this went beyond the occasional punch in the face. Just thinking that made me want to throw up. What kind of world was it when 'the occasional punch in the face' was the least of my worries when it came to my fourteen year old little brother? No…fifteen. He had been fifteen. "When he had nightmares...when he caught him smoking..." Steve snorted humorlessly, knowing as I did that Pony was always smoking. "They said that when he caught him smoking, he put out the cigarettes on his arms." The words came out a lot steadier than I felt. They'd tortured my little brother, and I hadn't protected him.

Steve swore under his breath then, looking down at the carpet and Johnny swallowed hard, crossing his arms defensively. I kept picturing my little brother trying to fight against a grown man...he wouldn't stand a chance. Obviously. "Those boys think the foster father, Richard, has something to do with the girl….with Ponyboy disappearing." Disappearing. It was the closest I could come.

"The kid's fine." Dally spoke up, like he could read my mind. "He's tough. No way that asshole got him."

I felt my grip on this calm facade falling away, my hands starting to shake. My brother was gone my brother was gone my brother was gone. "They found his jacket by that girl's grave Dally. Covered in blood. The guy that beat on Pony...they think he was the one that killed her." I didn't want to believe it. But what else could I think? My little brother had...what? Seen them kill her? Or maybe they'd attacked them both and Pony had gotten away for a day or two? Either way, what were the odds that Ponyboy had evaded this guy _and_ all of his friends for days without turning up? My stomach churned and I swallowed bile, flinching at the taste and the burn as it went down. Ponyboy had been all-alone, a bunch of homicidal maniacs after him...how could a fifteen year old kid win against his sadistic foster father and all his buddies?

"Could have been anybody's blood." He told me, calm as anything.

I leaned forward then, slamming my hand down on the table so hard the room seemed to shake, and he went real still, eyeing me again. I wanted to yell...to scream and throw a punch. But none of it mattered. My brother was gone. Something had happened and I hadn't been there to protect him. That man...he'd killed the girl and apparently my brother knew or had seen him, and then they'd probably killed him too. What other explanation was there? It hit me then, full in the stomach, and I put my hand against my mouth, doubling over on the sofa. He was dead. Ponyboy was dead. My baby brother...I hadn't protected him. I hadn't looked out for him. I'd hit him and now he was dead. No way he could have eluded all of them for this long, not without help, and he hadn't had anyone to help him. He was gone. My little brother was _gone!_

Soda seemed to break beside me. It felt like I'd been the only thing holding us together, and now I couldn't do it anymore. Soda slumped on the sofa, his face in his hands, while Steve did his best to comfort him, his hand on my brother's back. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to crawl into bed and turn out the lights and sleep until it was over. I couldn't live with this...not without Pony. Even if we'd never gotten custody again, at least we would have seen him after he turned eighteen. Now...I couldn't bear it. I reached out blindly, finding a beer bottle on the table beside me and threw it against the wall with as much force as I could manage, feeling a thrill of relief going through me when it shattered.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Dally snapped, jumping out of his chair.

"Give it a rest, Dal." Two-Bit snapped, but Dally moved forward, grabbing me by the arm, and I had to fight not to punch him again. It wasn't his fault...not really...but he'd kept this from us. He'd found Ponyboy and he knew they were hurting him and he hadn't told us. If he'd have just taken me to Pony's house…if I could have seen him again…maybe I could have saved him. Dal shoved me back so I was sitting up and shook me like you would a misbehaving kid. When he spoke, his voice was low and desperate, his face too close to mine.

"You can't do this. Do you hear me? That kid's gonna need you when he get's back. Hell, he needs you now, Darrel!"

"He ain't coming back, Dal!" I bit out, jumping to my feet and letting myself say the words, shoving him backwards in the process. "He's gone. My little brother is gone!" My voice broke then, but I kept going. "And it's my fault. The people the state put him with beat the shit out of him and tortured him and…and killed him." I was crying, tears hot as they dripped down my chin, but I didn't care. The pain came in waves and I couldn't escape it. This was too much. "He was fifteen and they _killed_ him."

He shook his head; jaw tight as he looked between me and the guys, then grabbed my arm again, ignoring me when I tried to shake him off. He was asking for it. "The kid ain't dead, Darry." He told me quietly, shaking me again.

I shook my head, sick of the fake hope and the desperation and the pretending that everything would be okay. "Dally, they found…"

"The kid ain't dead!" He was silent for a long time them, seeming to fight with himself as he stared at me. The room went quiet then as we waited for Dally to explain himself. He kept his hands on my arms, squeezing firmly. When he spoke, it was just above a whisper like he was afraid someone would overhear. "Look...he showed up at Buck's Monday morning...early. He was begging me...said he had to get out of town or that asshole was going to kill him. So I got him out of town."

The silence in the room was deafening. Then Soda jumped to his feet, his face so chalky white I was scared he was gonna fall over or pass out.

"You tell me where he is, right now, or I swear to God I'll…"

"You'll what!" Dally snapped, whirling around, and Soda stood nose to nose with our friend while the rest of us just stood around, struck dumb. He wasn't dead. My brother was still alive. He was okay. He'd gone to Dally, and Dally had helped him. My legs gave out and I dropped onto the sofa again, the terrible knot in my chest releasing. My brother wasn't gone. My brother was alive. I was crying again, my hands covering my face as I slumped forward, but Dallas was still yelling. "Go get him? Take him back to that place? Call the cops? That bastard will _kill_ him, you idiot!"

"What are you talking about, kill him?" Johnny's voice cut through his tirade as he too jumped to his feet, pale and wide-eyed. "Dally? Who wants to kill him?" I realized that he didn't know the whole story…of course he didn't. And apparently I didn't either. Dally deflated a little, faced with an almost crying Sodapop and a frightened Johnny. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair and turning to me.

"What did those kids tell you about Ponyboy running away, Darrel?" I took a long moment to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my ears. He was alive. Dally had helped him somehow. I owed Dally…I owed him big. After a minute, I gestured for Soda to sit back down. He did, dropping beside me and leaning on my shoulder while Dally shoved his hands in his pockets, staying where he was and waiting for my reply. I did my best to remember…to get it all right so maybe it would start making sense.

"They said that Ponyboy, his foster-sister, and his foster father, Rick, were all off somewhere. They saw Rick come in Monday morning, early, covered in blood." Here Steve jerked his head up, staring at me instead of at his hands. I always knew he cared, I thought with grim amusement. It was the only kind of amusement I could manage at the moment. "He said he was gonna kill Ponyboy...take care of him. The girl never came back, and they didn't report Ponyboy missing until the next night. The girl neither, I don't guess."

"You think they were the ones that killed the girl and...and what? Tried to kill Pony?" Two-Bit choked out, aghast. Dally nodded his head before I could answer.

"They tried, but they couldn't find him. The kid got away." He told us quietly, sighing again.

I was so tired all of a sudden…I wanted to lie down. But more than that, I _needed_ to know what had happened. I needed to hear again that my little brother was okay. "He's alive?"

"He's alive." Dallas told me, softening a little. It wasn't enough though.

"How can you be sure?" I needed to know.

"I just talked to him on the phone a few days ago." I sat back then, closing my eyes for a long moment and then rubbing them, doing my best to stop crying.

"What'd you do, Dal?" I demanded, needing the whole story straight. He sighed, crossing his arms and speaking to all of us, but looking straight at me.

"Kid came to me on Monday morning early...I guess he took the bus over here. Showed up at Bucks with a black eye and a bad cut on his face, crying and carrying on that he had to get out. I got him to tell me…" Here he glanced at Johnny, then continued, eyes on the ground. "He was hiding out at some bar, I guess trying to stay out of that bastard's way. He saw 'em take that girl, Lianne, out behind the bar. Rick and some of his friends. I'm guessing at least one was a cop. They killed the girl out there...I don't know if that's all they did to her." He breathed out, a long sigh. "Kid was in shock...couldn't tell me much. Or wouldn't. She was only thirteen, man."

He shook his head. Soda was green, and I assumed Two-Bit was thinking of his own sister, because he sat down hard in the chair Dally had vacated. Pony had seen them...who knew what they'd done to the poor girl...what my brother had seen them do to her. I thought back to the boys that had stopped by...about the other foster sister. About what that asshole had done to her...my brother must have known about that too.

"They saw Ponyboy there." Steve mumbled, his eyes closing as he put it together, and Dally nodded.

"Yeah. He said he almost didn't get away. That cut was new, and so was the black eye. He was all bruised up too. I told him you two had a court date...he said that if I didn't help him get out, he wouldn't make it to the court date." I closed my eyes, dropping my head into my hands. He was alive. Dally knew where he was. Glory, I was exhausted.

"Where'd you send him?" Johnny asked in a small voice, his arms crossed tight over his chest. He was still standing, peering up at Dally almost fearfully. Dal softened a bit, going back to looking bored.

"To stay with an old buddy. Gave him some money...he'll be alright for a while." Dally was watching me when I glanced up at him, and suddenly he was defensive. "I couldn't risk bringing him here, not with that nutcase after him. He's buddies with all the cops in that town and he's sticking it in the social worker...which is probably why she was never in the office when you tried calling." I closed my eyes, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes like I'd seen Ponyboy do when he was working on homework and couldn't figure out the answer. Just that though ached. I hadn't protected him. I hadn't protected my little brother, and he'd been put with a man that beat him...that tortured him. And now there was nothing I could do to help him.

"We've only got three months until that court date." Soda whispered. "It's our chance to get him back."

"Hey, are you guys forgetting something?" Steve finally snapped, looking around. "You said the guy put out cigarettes on the kid's arm?" I nodded, not even wanting to think about that at the moment. When I got Pony back...when I could see him in front of me...then I would take care of that. "Well, I know that leaves a scar. There's evidence. Those other kids…"

"Ain't gonna say a word against that man...they're finally getting out of that house. They told us they wouldn't testify against him." I told him wearily.

"Fine. What about that girl? Ponyboy can tell the cops what happened to her. Right? That's pretty solid proof."

"Yeah? Who's to say Pony didn't do it and pin it on that guy?" When Steve of all people gave Dal a dirty look, he curled his hands into fists. "We all know Ponyboy wouldn't kill anyone, but the reason he got sent away was because he was involved in stabbing some other kid, right? And if Ricky the bastard has those cops in his pocket, you think they're gonna let themselves get implicated in this?"

"We need a cop." Two-Bit finally spoke up, laughing a little. "Can't believe I'm saying this...but man do we need a cop. Maybe a lawyer too."

"Yeah? And what if we trust the wrong cop?" Steve demanded.

"You don't know where the kid even is." Dally reminded us. "And I ain't gonna tell em where he is. Tell him he called you and told you all this shit. Hell, there ain't no way he left a trail. They ain't gonna find him unless they dig real deep and real far. We just gotta give em some false leads...maybe tell them he hauled ass to California. Everybody else is. That way, even if we do spill it to a cop we can't trust, they won't be able to find the kid."

"So...we find a cop?" I asked, shaking my head. "Tell them we know what happened to that girl? Cause...why? Cause Ponyboy called us and told us all this."

"Yeah. And you find your old social worker too...maybe she can do some digging. You got a better plan?" I shook my head, at a loss. All I wanted to do was find that man and put a knife in him. He beat up kids, but I'd bet he'd never taken on someone his own size. Or bigger. I wouldn't mind showing off my muscles on the man who'd hurt my brother.

"If we get Pony to testify, somehow, that he saw Rick and those cops kill the girl, and if the social worker finds something...and if we can find a cop that believes us...that's a lot of 'if's.'" Soda reminded him.

"Well, plan B is to get Tim and the gang and go to war with them, but since he's got a pretty good chunk of the police force on his side…" Dally shrugged, trailing off.

"Yeah, what about the police?" Two-Bit asked.

"Surely the whole force can't be in on this." I shook my head, having to doubt that. "There has to be someone higher up who ain't in on it. We just gotta find out who…"

"Oh...Sodapop, Darry?" Dal asked, reaching into his pocket. "The kid, he asked me to give you these." He told us, holding out the envelopes. Soda snatched his immediately, ripping it open. I went slower, swallowing hard before I took the envelope from Dal. I didn't open it though...instead I watched Soda unfold his...it was a piece of notebook paper, but judging from the way Soda's hands started shaking, it was more than that.

Steve leaned in, getting a look too, and when he saw what it was, he went real still. Wordlessly, Soda stared at the paper, hands almost holding it too tight.

"Soda?" I asked when his fingers dug into the paper, and he immediately loosened his grip. Instead of explaining himself, he handed it over, and I stared at the picture of my brother and Steve, both leaning against Steve's truck, both laughing and grinning, eyes bright. Above the picture in the margin he'd written 'Happy Birthday, Sodapop.'

"Kid's one hell of an artist." Steve mumbled when the others crowded around to get a look, all but Dally who stayed where he was.

"Yeah...yeah, he is." Soda grinned, obviously fighting back the tears again. "He can draw just about anything. Looks just like you, Steve." His buddy nodded, the smile tight and almost grim. I handed the drawing back and opened my own, knowing it was probably a birthday card. He'd missed both of our birthdays...and we'd missed his. The only question was, what had he drawn for me? He and Soda had always been close...but after our parents, my relationship with my youngest brother had seemed to go downhill quick. Trying to be his parent had not gone over well, and it seemed like all we ever did was fight, all leading up to that night. What would he draw? Me, standing over him, yelling at him? Me, arm drawn back, ready to hit him. I didn't know if I could bear it.

"Darry? What'd he draw for you?" Soda asked. I readied myself. It was probably just the words 'happy birthday.' That would be fine. I'd get a chance to make this up to him...all of it. I had to. I couldn't lose Ponyboy...not my baby brother who'd followed me and Soda around like a puppy for his entire childhood. Not my smart, funny kid brother that skipped a grade in school and smoked too much. I couldn't bear losing him.

I unfolded the drawing and felt my eyes get hot immediately. I wasn't angry. I wasn't yelling. I was fishing. And I remembered that day. We'd been at the lake with Dad, Soda on Ponyboy's other side. It had only been a few years, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. He'd started getting tired of fishing, sighing and moving around and goofing off with Soda as usual. "You'll scare all the fish." I'd told him, but not angry and worried like I always seemed to be after our parents. Teasing. I'd reached over, punching him in the shoulder. He was my baby brother.

"There ain't no fish to scare!" He's whined, making Soda laugh. Just then, his eyes had gotten wide, a comical, started look coming over his face as his rod had almost been yanked from his hand. "Hey!" He'd cried, going from startled to excited, and my face was exactly as he'd captured it. In the drawing, I was holding the fishing rod loosely in one hand, my attention on my little brother as he'd scrambled to reel in his catch, our dad's hand on his shoulder. My eyes were every bit as happy and bright as Soda's, my shoulders relaxed, my lips turned up...I'd almost been laughing but not quite. And Ponyboy got every bit of it on paper.

My brother wasn't gone.

 **Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	11. Decisions

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I appreciate it so much! I hope you enjoy the chapter.**_

Decisions

Darry looked like he was in shock, and I didn't blame him. He'd thought his little brother was dead. Glory he loved his brother so much. I knew Pony had thought he'd hated him, but Darry loved him more than anything, and after their parents had died, I don't think Darry could have taken losing his baby brother. Soda had his head in his hands...looked like he'd given up yelling at Dal. He was just mad, but I knew he appreciated what Dal had done.

I was kinda mad too. Dally hadn't told me that Pony was okay...that he'd gone to see my best friend while he'd been in that awful place where they'd hurt him, and he'd known that Pony was alive even after that cop had come. He'd known everything but he hadn't told me that my friend was alive. I'd thought my best friend was dead. I mean, I hadn't wanted to say anything, especially not to Darry or to Sodapop...the gang all needed to believe he was okay somewhere. But I'd given up. I'd given up on Ponyboy. My best friend. The closest thing I had to a brother. I'd given up and I'd thought he was dead and now...he was alive. Alone.

This was all my fault. While the others were busy plotting and looking at the pictures Ponyboy had drawn for his brothers, I couldn't help the thought. I was useless here. Ponyboy was out by himself somewhere...and for months he'd lived in some hellhole like my own house and I hadn't even been there to talk to him. He always listened to me when I talked about my parents. I hadn't even asked Dally to help me find him. What kind of friend was I? I'd thought about him every day...all the time. My best friend. Practically my brother. He'd been so scared that night...heck, so had I. Now, he was gone, completely alone, and there was nothing I could do.

Pony couldn't be alone...not like this. He was only fourteen...no...fifteen now. Still. No way he could take care of himself. I mean, Pony's smart. He's been alone for a long time...since they took him, apparently. First in the boys' home, and then at the foster home, and now wherever Dally had sent him. But it wasn't right. Pony shouldn't _have_ to be alone. He'd been alone for too long, and now he needed someone with him.

I knew I wasn't the best at fighting. I was small for my age, and people always thought me and Pony were the same age. I was a little taller, now that I was seventeen, but I'd probably always been short. That was fine with me. I was an alright fighter for my size, and besides, fighting wasn't what I wanted to spend my whole life doing. Not that I knew what I wanted to spend it on...it wasn't fighting, anyway. Pony was the smart one of the gang, but I wasn't stupid or nothing. Pony was the better reader and he could study real good, but I got okay grades too. I'd probably never go to college, but I knew about cars and maybe I could get Steve and Soda to show me more. I wasn't strong enough to be in construction like Darry, or comfortable enough around horses to race like Dal. It was one of those conversations I'd always meant to have with Ponyboy. He always got things like that.

I owed Ponyboy a lot, and I guess he would say the same about me. We looked out for each other. Even though he was two years younger, he was my best friend. Had been since we were little kids. He knew my parents were bad but never bugged me about it, and he was always there to listen if I needed to talk. He could listen like no one else...just sit and take it in. Dally always had to be doing something to fix stuff if something was wrong, but Pony thought about stuff.

That night...when I'd stabbed Bob, I'd wanted to go to Dally. Dally would fix it...if I had to pick a hero, I guess Dally was the closest thing I had. But Pony had shaken his head, watching Bob's friends drag him away. We'd been lucky they'd been anxious to get him to a hospital and had lost interest in us.

"Darry. He'll know what to do." Darry hit you, I'd wanted to say. You ran off because you got in a fight and your big brother hit you. But no matter how they fought, I'd known, and I knew Pony did too, that Darry loved him, and would always have his back. Darry and Soda loved him a lot, and they'd happily fight anyone that messed with their brother. It made me wish I had siblings, but I knew the gang was the same with me. So now, after everything that Ponyboy and I had done for each other...after all the fights with socs and tagging along with Dally and movies and poker games, I knew I had to do something.

It had been awful to watch them take my best friend. All three brothers had taken it real hard, especially Darry. It was worse, somehow, to see him broken up about Ponyboy. I knew Soda loved Pony. He wore it on his sleeve. Those two had never been anything but close. But Darry was always quieter about things like that. He watched out for Ponyboy but it was like they were always fighting. Not that day, though. That day, he'd been crying too, holding Pony so tight that I hadn't known if he was gonna let him go. I wouldn't have blamed him if he hadn't. It wasn't right. Pony hadn't done anything! There weren't even any charges! Self-defense, they'd said. Those socs had attacked us and we'd protected ourselves. The only thing Ponyboy had that night done was almost drown, anyway. I'd been the one to stab Bob! Why did they have to go after Pony?

Now, after finding out what that man had done to my best friend, I had to find him. It wasn't like I was wanted at home. I remembered Two-Bit hitting Pony after my friend had said the same thing. It wasn't like he was wrong, but it had hurt to hear it coming from him of all people. Of course, he'd apologized immediately, and I'd known he hadn't meant. I'd figured he liked that Cherry girl and was just embarrassed to have Two-Bit and me get on him in front of her. I didn't blame him one bit. Regardless, my parents wouldn't care if I disappeared, and the gang would be alright without me. The only problem would be finding out where Pony was. I figured I would just have to wait for him to call and ask him...or I could get Dally to tell me. But I knew neither would want to tell me. Dally was obviously keeping it a secret for a reason, and Pony had probably agreed not to tell anyone.

I had to figure out a way to get one of them to tell me...or find out another way to figure out where Pony was hiding. Not that I had any idea how to do that. But I had to find him...soon. I needed to see my best friend again. And I couldn't help the twinge of anger when I thought about Dally. He'd found Ponyboy! He had seen him months ago! And he hadn't told me. I mean, it wasn't like I couldn't keep a secret. His brothers would have flown off the handle, and even Steve and Two-Bit would have probably done something crazy, but me...I just wanted to see Ponyboy. I wanted my best friend back. I couldn't imagine not having him around...this last several months had been the worst. I'd had no one to talk to...no one to hang out with. Sure, the rest of the gang was still around, but Ponyboy was the one I could _talk_ to!

"Johnnycake?" I jumped, realizing everyone was looking at me. I looked around the living room, trying to figure out who had called my name.

"Huh?"

"You alright, Johnny?" Sodapop asked, distracted from worrying about his brother by his worry for me. It was good of him. I knew he was scared to death about his brother, so it was nice of him to bother caring about me right now. He was holding that card in his hand, careful, so he wouldn't crumble it. It was real good...Ponyboy was the best artist I knew.

"Yeah...sorry. I was...uh...just thinking." Soda softened then, sitting down beside me, his shoulder against mine.

"Hey, we're gonna get him back." He told me quietly, his eyes fiercely determined. "Don't worry." I nodded, grinning a little, trying not to give myself away. They couldn't know what I was planning. They'd try to stop me. Soda put a hand on my shoulder. I'd always wished he was my big brother...my real big brother, and that I was a real part of this family. But since that couldn't happen, I was happy to have him as a surrogate brother. The gang had all but adopted me from day 1, and I appreciated every one of them...but it had started with the Curtis brothers. I looked at the folded piece of paper in his hands. The card Ponyboy had sent him. It was the best drawing I'd ever seen Pony do, and I'd seen a lot of his drawings. Sometimes I would watch while he drew out in the lot or in his bedroom. He'd even dr n me once, after I'd asked him. He'd let me keep it too. He was getting better. I wondered if he'd ever thought about doing it for money.

"I'm gonna try and get ahold of our old social worker tomorrow...I'll call off work." Darry announced. "I'm gonna go down there...heck, I'll go to her house if I have to."

"And the police?" Soda asked, his hand still on my shoulder.

"Let me talk to the social worker first." Soda nodded, squeezing my shoulder and then dropping it, leaning back against the couch.

"I'd better get home." I announced suddenly, jumping to my feet, arms crossed. All eyes were on me, all concerned and confused. It wasn't really like me to _want_ to go home. Dally narrowed his eyes, cocking his head, and Darry looked like he wanted to say something. Those two had always looked out for me...more than anyone, even if Darry did sort of scare me sometimes. A tense, strange silence filled the room, and I swallowed. "Um...I ain't been home in a couple of days. I'd better, uh...go. Before they...before my parents um…" Worry wasn't the right word. My parents didn't care if I was okay. But they did expect me to show up every once in awhile. I shrugged, letting the sentence trail off. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." I mumbled, hurrying out of the room.

"Johnny?" Darry called, and I froze in the doorway, not turning around. He came up behind me, his hand on my shoulder where Soda's had been. "Hey, Johnnycake, you alright?" He asked. I couldn't really answer that. I wasn't alright, not at all. I needed to find my best friend. I made myself talk to him anyway, careful of what I said.

"Yeah. I just gotta get home." I told him. Nothing new in that. My parents really did get mad if I didn't show up, and that made it worse when I did come around.

"You can stay here if you want, you know that right?" I glanced up at him. I knew he'd hit Ponyboy. I knew they'd had their issues, and that they fought all the time...but now all he wanted was his brother back. He wanted to fix it. And he would do better. They both would. But right now, Darry had to take care of things here, and Ponyboy was off alone somewhere. With Dally's friend. We all knew what kind of 'friends' Dally had. He needed me. He'd been there for me so many times before...

I forced myself to smile.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks. I'd better go, though. They get mad if I don't show up for a while." He nodded, jaw tight. We all knew what happened when my parents got mad. More than once I'd showed up at his place in the middle of the night after my parents got mad. When his parents were still alive, they'd welcomed me into their house every time, his mom with coffee or hot chocolate and a first aid kid, their dad with an arm around my shoulder, telling me I was always welcome to spend the night.

After their folks had died, I'd been afraid to come over like that, showing up in the middle of the night with a black eye or busted lip. But after a pretty bad night, I'd done it anyway, and Darry had opened the door, eyes widening as he'd taken in my bloody mouth. Immediately he'd reached out, pulling me inside. "You need a doctor?" He'd asked, rubbing my back and leading me to the kitchen.

"No." I'd mumbled, more ashamed than anything. He'd ruffled my hair, coming back with the first aid kid, then putting a band aid on a cut on my cheek.

"Sleep here, okay kiddo?" And that had been it. In the morning, no one had seemed surprised to see me on their couch, and over the last few months, I'd spent more time at the Curtis house than ever, missing my best friend every day. Pony had never asked if things were okay at home...he just sat beside me on the sofa in the mornings when he'd find me...before they took him. He'd be the first one up, sometimes, or come in when Darry was cooking breakfast, and he'd just sit beside me, his shoulder touching mine. He'd grin a little bit, his eyes saying everything, and sometimes I'd explain. Usually I wouldn't. He didn't mind, either way. It's why he was my best friend.

Now his brother watched me carefully, then nodded, dropping the hand. "Alright, Johnnycake. See you around. If you change your mind, you can come over anytime."

"Thanks, Darry." He turned to go, but before he could get back to the living room, I blurted out the words I'd wanted to say for months. "I'm sorry." I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw, wishing I could shove those words back in my mouth. I could feel the weight of his stare, and I made myself meet his eyes.

"What for?" He asked, looking honestly confused.

"Ponyboy...it was my fault, Darry." He started shaking his head immediately, but I hurried on., backing off when he would have put his hand on my arm. I had to find Ponyboy, and I might not see Darry again for a while...he deserved an apology for this. "No...it was. I should have just brought him home. Or stayed in the lot with him. Or...or we should have run. Something...I'm sorry. I just...I need you to know that." Without waiting for a reply, I hurried off, hands shoved in my pockets as I headed to Buck's. I figured I could beat Dally there, if he was even going back there that night, and once I got there, I would just have to hope he'd left some kind of clue as to where Ponyboy was. The plan sounded stupid even in my mind, but it was the only one I had.

I didn't even make it halfway there. The footsteps behind me made me falter, and I glanced back, not really surprised to see Dally coming after me. "This ain't the way to your house." He observed, crossing his arms and lifting an eyebrow. "Hell, your house is about a mile that way." He tilted his head backwards. I didn't bother answering him. He probably had it figured out already. "You can't do this, Johnny."

"You gonna stop me?" I asked, shoving my hands in my packets and lifting an eyebrow. He smirked. If anyone else had tried that with him, he'd have knocked their teeth out, but I knew he wouldn't hit me...even though I was pushing it a bit. He walked up to me, towering over me, arms crossed.

"You can't do anything." He told me simply, the smile dropping a little.

"He's my best friend."

"C'mon, Johnny. He's fine."

"No, he's not. He's alone, wherever the hell you sent him. He's only fourteen, Dal!"

"Fifteen." He reminded me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Dally…" I sighed, staring down at my feet for a second, then met his eyes, begging him for the first time in my life. "Please, Dally. Please. He's my best friend, and he's been alone for a long time." Dally ran a tired hand down his face, sighing deeply. "He's always been there, you know?" I mumbled, crossing my arms defensively. "When my old man...when I ended up at the Curtis's. Pony was always there. And...he always listened." I tightened my arms, staring down at my feet. Across from me, Dal swore tiredly. "You know my parents won't care." That was the final blow. He nodded, jerking his chin back toward my house.

"Go home. Pack some clothes...I gave Ponyboy all the spare ones I had. Meet me outside Buck's in an hour. I mean it kid...don't give me a chance to change my mind. If you can find any money, bring it. Steal it if you have to. God knows I don't have any left."

"Thank you, Dal."

"Just go. Glory, you kids are killing me." He grumbled, and I knocked my shoulder against his with a grin when I passed him, hurrying to my house.

My house was silent. I figured my old man was at work, but my mom was probably somewhere around so I'd have to be careful depending on what kind of mood she was in. Pushing the front door open as quietly as I could, I glanced around the dirty living room, wishing again that I lived at the Curtis's house instead. There were cobwebs on the ceiling and in the corners, empty beer bottles on the coffee table. Our sofa was ratty and the TV had been busted for weeks, not that either of my parents would ever fix it. The shades were all drawn, and I heard someone snoring.

My room was across the hall from my parents, so I slipped inside, grabbing a backpack I rarely used from under my bed and grabbing whatever clothes I found first. I hadn't done laundry in about two weeks, and my mom rarely did mine. I found some clean jeans and a few t-shirts though. Socks and underwear were buried in my drawers and I dug them out, filling the bag. I knew I needed money, too, but I sure didn't have any hidden away anywhere. My parents barely remembered to give me money for lunch, and I sure didn't get no allowance. I didn't have a job, except for mowing lawns with Pony sometimes in the summer, so it wasn't like I had a savings account or anything. Hell, Dally paid for me most times when we went out to eat or to the movies. Pulling the backpack over my shoulders, I stepped out into the hallway and froze. Someone in the bedroom was snoring.

I pushed the door open just a crack and peeked in. My dad was asleep on the bed, his arm hanging off the side, three empty beer bottles sitting on the table beside him with two more knocked over on their sides on the floor. I wondered if he was off or if he'd lost his job again. If he'd lost his job, it was a good thing that I was getting out of town for a while. He liked to take it out on me like it was my fault he couldn't quit drinking long enough to work for a few hours. I wondered if my mom was at work, then, but whatever concern I had for them was cut off when I saw the wallet on the bedside table.

For a second, I was paralyzed. I'd never taken so much as a quarter from my mom's purse. I couldn't imagine how they'd react if they caught me stealing...but then I remembered the last time my old man had given me a black eye. I thought of Ponyboy off alone somewhere, not knowing what to do and scared of being by himself...missing his family and the gang and maybe me too. I thought about what that man had done to him and how scared he must have been, running off like that by himself. I had to have money if I was going to get to my friend. My dad probably had some money in that wallet. Making my decision, I stepped into the room, walking real quiet even though he was passed out drunk. I grabbed the wallet, surprised to find thirty dollars in fives inside. My dad almost never had that much money on him...what if it was for bills or something? I thought about Pony again. It wasn't my fault my dad couldn't keep a job. He'd just have to find another one. Maybe my mom's sister would help them out or something. Either way, I needed that money. For a second as I started to leave the house for the last time, I wondered if they'd miss me. My heart dropped a little when I realized I was being stupid. They'd never miss me. But Pony probably did. Shutting the screen door as quiet as I could, I took off toward Buck's.


	12. Avoidance

_**A huge thank you to everyone who has read or reviewed this story! It makes my day every time I get a review! I got a question from one guest asking if I knew how long this story was going to be. My answer: Not really. Quite a bit longer, if everything goes as planned. I hope you all enjoy the chapter!**_

Avoidance

The days dragged, yet at the same time, passed in a blur that was hard to pick apart. I was getting familiar with the city, finally, and could find my way to grocery stores and other shops around that I couldn't afford to buy anything from. On Monday, I woke up early and made eggs first thing, but when I sat down to eat, starting down at the breakfast I'd made, all I could think of was Darry, waking up before the rest of us to make breakfast. It had always been our parents before who'd made breakfast. Our mom usually, but sometimes Dad.

The first day after they'd died, Darry had woken up early, then Soda, and together they'd made breakfast. Then Darry had come in and shaken me awake, ruffling my hair and putting an arm around me when I remembered what had happened the night before. He'd told me that it was going to be okay...that he wasn't gonna let anything happen to me. I'd cried for a long time, and he'd just sat on the bed holding me, his hands rubbing my back, assuring me over and over that it was going to be okay. And then he'd led me into the kitchen where we'd all eaten, totally alone together for the first time. It had been rough, but I'd had my brothers. I hadn't been alone.

I'd been alone for almost a year now. No gang to watch my back. No brothers to take care of me and watch out for me. Just a bunch of kids at a boy's home that didn't care about me, then Richard and Tammy. At first, I'd thought that place would be okay. I'd thought they would be...if not nice, at least tolerable. I'd been so focused on getting back to Darry and Sodapop. Then that first night, Tyler and Mark had tried pushing me around and I'd pushed back. I didn't want to start fights, but I wasn't about to let them screw around with me. I was a pretty good fighter for my size.

I'd gone outside to smoke after that. He hadn't caught me that time...it had taken him three days to catch me on the porch. He wasn't around a lot, so I didn't get a read on him until that night when he saw me smoking. He hadn't said anything, just walked up to me. I'd been about to throw it down...maybe even apologize. I hadn't wanted to cause trouble if the guy letting me live with him didn't want me smoking on the porch. Then he'd grabbed my wrist, snatching the cigarette away and holding it to my skin, ignoring the startled scream that had ripped from my throat.

James came into the kitchen about then, pausing when he saw me with a plate full of uneaten eggs and yanking me out of my thoughts. "You uh...gonna eat that or just stare at it?" He asked, looking almost concerned. I shook my head, pushing the plate toward him and standing.

"Not hungry." I told him, hurrying off toward the bathroom and ignoring the look he was giving me. After I took a shower, dabbing my face with alcohol and the cut on my side too, I stared at myself in the mirror. The cut on my side was healing fine, and the cut on my face didn't hurt so much, but I couldn't bring myself to really look at my arms. They were red and painful still, covering my arms from my elbows to my wrists, with one on the back of my hand. I pulled my shirt over my head, hurriedly yanking the sleeves down to my wrists. I didn't want to look at them. I didn't want to think about the asshole who'd given them to me, or the fact that every time I thought about grabbing a cigarette, I got a terrible nauseous feeling in my stomach. Pushing those memories away, I stepped out into the living room and found him eating the eggs at the kitchen table.

The phone rang as I was pulling my shoes on, and James hurried over, picking it up and dropping onto the couch beside me. He glanced over at me when he answered, and I took that as my cue to leave. I yanked my shoes on, tying them and giving a half wave as I hurried out of the apartment.

"Yeah? Okay, we need to get T and…" I shut the door halfway through his sentence, not bothering to try and make sense of it. I didn't want to make sense of anything. I wanted to go home. Every day it got worse, and it was getting harder and harder to push it away. I did my best though, running a hand through my ungreased hair and hurrying down the sidewalk to keep pace with everyone else.

Wandering until I hit the crowded movie house, I snuck in the back, taking a seat amongst the couples that sat together in one seat and paid no attention to me. For about two hours, I managed to forget about everything, but it wasn't like before. Back home I'd gone to the movie house with my friends or, just as often, alone, and I'd lost myself in the stories and the actors, but now… as soon as the lights came back on...heck, a few minutes before, I remembered that night with Johnny and Dally. I remembered how Dallas had been bugging that Cherry girl and how he'd stormed out and then getting home late after falling asleep in the lot. I remembered Darry, and how I'd yelled and he'd hit me and I'd run even though Darry had yelled that he was sorry and that he hadn't meant to. I knew that. I knew he hadn't meant to hit me. Darry had never hit me before. I knew he'd never do it again. But I'd run anyway. Why? Why had I run? It was a question I couldn't answer, and one I hated to even think about.

When the movie was over, I had to fight the urge to buy a soda or some popcorn. I was constantly stuck between hungry and sick, and I didn't have any money on me, so I just walked some more, hands in my pockets, until there was nowhere left to go and I was too exhausted and hot and hungry to keep going, so I went back to James's apartment, which was empty, so I made some pasta, managing to eat about half of it, and then dropping onto the sofa and falling asleep. I was getting pretty good at sleeping all the time.

On Tuesday, I pulled out the sketchpad and the pack of pencils I'd gotten on Sunday and left the apartment. I couldn't go to the library every day. I was too afraid of that librarian asking more questions or somehow figuring out that I was lying about who I was. And I couldn't get a library card to check books out, nor could I afford to buy books, but I could draw. It was something. Johnny used to tell me I was real good at drawing...I'd drawn him once and he'd liked it so much I'd just let him keep it. Sodapop told me I was good too, and Two-Bit liked to flip through my sketchbook and pretend to find naked girls just so everyone would laugh and to watch my ears get red.

Darry always told me I drew and read too much...that I needed to work on my homework or come out with the guys more, but looking back, I don't think he was trying to be mean. I think he was just worried I was pulling away from the guys...spending too much time alone after our parents died. To be honest, I kind of had. After our mom and dad had died, especially those first few months, I'd quit talking much, just staying off on my own and drawing or reading a book or going to a movie. Anything to escape. Darry had worried about me a lot, and I missed him so much. He must be so worried about me now. I hated to even think about it, so I tried to shove the thought away. It sort of worked, the thoughts of my brothers hiding in the back of my mind as I did my best to think of anything else.

I spent the day walking around, trying to memorize more and more of the city and to keep my mind off of how hungry I was. Rationing the food was sort of working, and I knew I needed a job soon...I figured I'd call Dally and ask for his advice about that. But I didn't know how often I ought to call Dally, or when it would be safe to call my brothers. I missed them more every day, somehow. They knew I was missing and they'd be scared. I hoped Dally found a way to tell them I was okay soon. I didn't want to bug Dally though, so I figured I'd wait a few more days.

Every time I passed a burger joint or a hot dog stand, I had to look away, my mouth watering against my will. I tried to ignore it, along with the laughing guys and pretty girls that sat at the tables together, all talking and messing around. I'd done a pretty good job ignoring hunger when I'd lived in that hellhole. A lot of the time when I ate, I just felt sick anyway. A few times at the boy's home, I'd thrown up after eating, so I'd stuck to just nibbling at sandwiches and giving away the rest of my food, which had actually won me a few friends, or at least allies. Not that there had been a ton of danger there. No one had bothered me much. And I hadn't been the only kid not allowed to visit his family...I just might have been the only one who was upset by it.

Finally finding a tiny park on my walk, probably smaller than a city block, I sat down on a bench with the new notebook and the pencil and had bent over my work, first just sketching a squirrel that was sitting a few feet away, scavenging through a trash can for something to eat. It wasn't great, but it was okay, and it felt good to have something to do. Then I drew the trashcan it sat on, working my way over the paper until I had drawn the whole scene. Still, even when I was drawing, I kept thinking of my brothers…about Darry asking if I'd finished my homework or Sodapop asking me how school had been. I hadn't thought about school for a while, not since seeing what they had done to Lianne. I'd run away about a week before the semester had ended, so I hadn't taken any of my final tests. Closing my eyes for a second, I turned the page in my notebook and started a new drawing, not wanting to think about that either.

When I was finished, it didn't look just like her. A few things were off, but it was a start. She was standing on the front porch across from me, leaning against the railing, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. She was rolling her eyes, staring up at the ceiling of the porch and smirking. She'd been thirteen. And they'd...I closed my eyes again, putting the notebook down on my lap and trying not to think about it. I didn't want to remember what they'd done. I just wanted to forget all of it.

Looking around and realizing it was getting dark, I headed back to the apartment, ignoring James in the kitchen and my growling stomach and dropping onto the sofa to sleep. I wasn't tired, but I could pretend to sleep and think about my brothers...even pretend that I was at home, laying on the sofa, listening to Darry and not James in the kitchen. Soon Soda would come home and ruffle my hair, asking if I was okay, and I'd sit up, nodding and assuring him I was fine. Steve would make a crack that I'd pretend didn't hurt, only now it really wouldn't. Not after everything else. And maybe Johnny would come over too...we'd all eat together and it would be fine.

Eventually, I must have fallen asleep, because I woke a door slamming, jerking upright and looking around. I'd been dreaming about Lianne, so it was a welcome intrusion, but still, I had to rub my eyes and squint at the brightness. "You still asleep?" James grumbled, rubbing his own eyes as he stepped into the apartment. I hummed in agreement. "It's almost noon, kid."

"You just getting home?" He lifted an eyebrow and I took it back immediately. "I uh...never mind." I mumbled, dropping back down onto the sofa.

"You ain't sick, are ya?" James demanded, ignoring my question. I shook my head, even if I didn't feel great. It didn't matter. I hadn't felt great for weeks, so I figured it was just stress or shock or whatever I was dealing with. I missed my family more than anything. I missed my friends and my city and the house I'd grown up in. I missed having an actual place to live, not just some guy's couch. That was all that was wrong, surely. Plus I hadn't been eating much, so that couldn't have helped. I was too scared to eat more than a sandwich or a cup of pasta at a time though. When I ran out of money, that was it, and I couldn't bring myself to go out looking for a job in New York just yet.

James headed back to his room, shrugging and apparently going back to ignoring me. That was fine with me. At the boys home, no one had paid any attention to me as long as I did whatever I was told. So I had. I'd still thought there was a chance I'd get to go home back then, but every day that passed with no word had made it harder and harder to hold onto that hope. I'd only been able to call Soda from the boy's home twice and he'd assured me that Darry was working on it. I believed him...it was just hard to hold onto any hope when other boys were being sent to homes or finally picked up by their own families. Or turning eighteen and being turned out to fend for themselves.

A few times, I'd thought that I would be stuck there until I turned eighteen. The older you were, the harder it was to get adopted or fostered out, not that I wanted that. Eventually, though, my brothers would get visitation, and when I turned eighteen, they'd let me go back to them. Then I could...well, I didn't know, but at least then I'd be home. That thought...the thought of being home, had been like a vise around my heart, and there had been more than one night when I'd curled up in my bunk, shaking and sobbing with my fist in my mouth, desperate not to let anyone else hear.

I shook those thoughts off, heading into the kitchen to eat some toast, then headed back into the living room where I pulled out my notebook, drawing a half-decent picture of the sofa, then sketching Sodapop, wishing I still had that picture of him from my jacket that I'd lost when they'd tried to grab me behind the bar. Still, I could remember his face as clear as anything when I closed my eyes. The hat pulled over his eyes, the way he'd push his hair out of his face...how he'd grin over at me sometimes, knocking his shoulder into mine or throwing an arm around me when we would drop into bed at the end of the day.

I headed to the library at three. I couldn't stand sitting around the apartment anymore, trying to push away thoughts of home. I was dying to get out, and I could only aimlessly wander the streets for so long. I assumed James was asleep since I hadn't heard him come in the night before from wherever he'd been with that guy I'd met about twice and still didn't know the name of. I didn't care much. He didn't seem to care where I went anyway, as long as I stayed out of his way. I wondered briefly what they were up to as I left the apartment but figured it was better not to know.

The streets were actually more crowded than I'd expected for the middle of the week, but school was still out for the summer, so I joined the groups of people on the sidewalks, sweating immediately in the humidity that almost took my breath away. Teenagers and little kids ran the streets, some disappearing underground as they took the subway, and others waiting around at bus stations. I hadn't tried the subway yet, and doubted I would. It wasn't like I could afford a ticket anyway. A few of the teenagers went into the library, and I joined them, slipping in and avoiding the front desk. The librarians were all busy with people wanting books, so I found the book I'd been reading, picked a chair in the quiet back corner, and started reading again where I'd left off. For a while, I was lost in the best possible way.

The building closed at seven, which I learned when the librarian from before came over and stood by my chair until I looked up. It was still light outside, so I could see just fine by the windows, and when I looked around, I found that I was the only person still there. "We're closing up, honey." She told me, the smile tired but genuine.

"Oh…" I looked around for a clock but couldn't find one.

"We close at seven during the week." She informed me, and I resolved to find a watch at some point.

"Right...sorry." I mumbled, climbing to my feet and glancing down at the page number, memorizing it for next time. "I'll put this up." She held out a hand.

"I can do that." She assured me, and I reluctantly handed the book over. "Have a good night."

"You too." I called, hurrying outside so they could lock up and, once more, heading back to the apartment. I was staring at my feet as I walked, having almost memorized the route to and from the library after the first trip. Thankfully it wasn't too hard. No one around gave me any trouble, and I wondered if that was because of James or because I was always in by the time it got dark.

It wasn't until I reached the steps of the apartment that I really looked up, and what I saw had me stopping in my tracks. The guy in front of me stood and grinned, leaving his bag on the steps and crossing his arms. I was frozen in place for a long time, up until he came down to stand in front of me, the smile I remembered the same, even after almost a year.

"Hey, Pony." Something broke inside me, and I threw my arms around him, feeling my chest constrict at the words. He hugged me just as tight, patting me on the back and squeezing. I wanted to talk, to say hello or thank you or at least stop bawling like a baby, but all I could think was, 'I'm not alone anymore.'

 **Thank you for reading.**


	13. Together

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed! I hope you enjoy the new chapter.**

 _Together_

My friend looked rough. That was the first thing I noticed when he froze on the sidewalk in front of me. The cut on his face would have made him look real tough if he hadn't been so skinny and scared, the new blond hair making him look even younger. He'd lost a lot of weight, and his clothes hung off his shoulders awkwardly.

But more than that, when he'd been walking toward me, not noticing me, he'd looked scared. And when he looked up...before he'd recognized me, it had been like he'd been folded in on himself, his shoulders up, his eyes barely meeting mine at first. He looked...broken. A faded bruise surrounded one eye, and he wore a long-sleeved shirt despite how hot it was. He didn't look like Ponyboy anymore. In his place was some guy that had been beaten down too many times. I should know...it was the guy I saw in the mirror every time I bothered to look.

As soon as I spoke to him, he seemed to crumble, the bewildered look giving way to relief so strong I didn't know if I could stand it. He threw his arms around me, holding me so tight I could hardly breathe, but I didn't mind none. I had been right...he'd been alone. Completely alone. Not anymore though. He sobbed into my shoulder, his shoulders shaking, and I patted him on the back like his brothers would, not saying nothing. I didn't need to. We usually didn't need to say anything to each other. We knew each other better than that. All these years, he'd been there for me, even though he was younger. Now I could look out for him.

He shook for a long time, even after I pulled away a little and put my hands on his shoulders. He rubbed at his eyes, shaking his head and trying to talk, but he just dropped his head, giving up. "I'm sorry." He finally managed, his ears red like they always were when he was embarrassed.

"You ain't gotta apologize. I'm glad to see you too, Pone."

"I didn't know...I thought I'd never…"

"Hey, don't say that." I shook him a little, feeling strong now that I was the one reassuring him. "It's gonna be fine, man. Alright?" Not wanting to talk about it on the street, I nodded toward the door. "Can we go in? I knocked but no one was home." He nodded real quick, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed our reunion before hurrying up to the door and ushering me through.

The apartment was pretty bare. Just the couch and some tables. The lamps were off and Ponyboy didn't turn them on. Instead, he just dropped onto the couch where there was a pillow and I assumed he slept there. I sat beside him, my shoulder against his as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring straight ahead like he was in shock or something. I knew I'd been right to come. "It's gonna be fine." I told him again, hoping I sounded reassuring instead of scared like I felt.

Dally had dropped me off at the bus stop, waiting until the bus came and sending me off. Thankfully I'd found some money in my old man's wallet, or I would have been out of luck. Dally hadn't been lying when he'd said he didn't have any money. He had swiped me a loaf of bread and some bologna at the gas station. The bus ride had seemed to go on forever, but, following Dally's instructions, I'd called as soon as I'd gotten there, and he'd told me to call again when I got to James's place. I hadn't yet, but I figured I'd wait until the guy got home. Or woke up. Pony hadn't actually said where he was. Pony hadn't actually said anything. He glanced at my bag, rubbing his face again, and turned to me.

"You hungry? I got some food…"

"Sure." I told him, figuring he needed to be doing something. Besides, something other than bologna sandwiches sounded good. He stood, moving careful, and I watched him close, the way he kept his head down when he walked, and how he glanced back at me when he stepped into the kitchen, almost like he thought I was about to disappear. Reaching into a cabinet, he opened up a box of spaghetti and poured the last of it into a pot of water, turning up the heat and standing back. The kitchen was pretty bare, and in the cabinet he'd opened to get the pasta, there were two more boxes, and that was it. "Man, I can get my own food…"

"It's fine." He assured me.

"I mean...it's that guy's food…"

"Nah, I bought it." He assured me. "James doesn't have any food. I have to get my own."

"Yeah? What does he eat?"

Pony grinned a little. "No idea. Beer, maybe. I've only seen him eat once." I snorted, but I couldn't help thinking he looked like he hadn't smiled in a long time. He was so hesitant...still scared looking, even though it was just us. As he turned to grab the pasta sauce from the fridge, I caught his arm, not missing how he flinched.

"Pony?" He stared down at me, but the way he looked, I still felt taller. He'd grown some though. "You okay?"

"Yeah…" He ran a hand over the unscarred side of his face. "I'm glad to see you, Johnny. I missed you."

"I missed you too." He strained the spaghetti, leaving a lot of the water in, and mixing in just a little pasta sauce. I noticed how careful he was...he was short on money and short on food, and I didn't have much money either, especially if both of us were going to eat. After he mixed the pasta sauce and the spaghetti, he spooned most of it onto one plate and a little onto a second one, handing me the full one. I didn't argue with him. Still, I couldn't help but ask. "Pone, ain't you hungry?" He shrugged.

"I'm used to it." I flinched at that as I followed him to the card table in the corner. He always had been honest with me. Me and Sodapop. The others he was pretty quiet with. Always had been, but even more after their parents had died. At the table, we both scarfed down our food, and he grabbed the dishes, taking them to the sink. I kept an eye on the living room, wondering where this James guy was. I didn't want to ask though...I didn't know _how_ to ask. So as he did the dishes, I stared at the table, trying to figure out what to say. He finished the dishes, turning and leaning against the counter, but we were both saved from saying anything when the front door was thrown open. Pony jumped but calmed down when a guy in a leather jacket stepped into the kitchen, eyeing me, then turning to Ponyboy.

"You having parties without me kid? Who's he?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow but not looking particularly angry. Pony gave him a sheepish smile.

"This is Johnny. He's...a friend of Dally's." James went wide-eyed then, turning without a word and storming into the living room, grabbing the phone from the table by the couch. I traded a look with Pony, both of us moving to stand in the living room, him looking kind of scared. I propped an elbow on his shoulder, leaning against him, and he smirked at me little while James dialed whoever it was he was calling.

The phone rang for a long time, but apparently, the other person finally picked up. "Dallas?" He snapped, "You send another kid up here?" I snorted a little then, dropping my head so James wouldn't see. "Look, man, I...I know you went…" He sighed, apparently interrupted by Dally's rather loud voice on the phone. Dallas spoke for almost a solid minute, and by the end, James was rubbing his forehead. "Fine. Here." He thrust the phone at me and I took it, smiling a little at the guy, hoping to thank him, but he just stormed off, slamming his bedroom door. Pony watched him with a grimace, arms crossed tight over his chest.

"Hey, Dally."

"He's gonna let you stay, but you and the kid gotta get jobs quick if you wanna eat. I'm assuming the kid hasn't got one yet?"

"Nope. I don't think so."

"Do that quick. He's probably almost out of money and you don't have much."

"That's fine. We'll figure it out." And I believed it. Pony needed someone to help him out, and I could be the one to do it for once. My parents were nowhere around...no one here knew me...it was perfect.

"How's the kid?" He asked quietly, sounding kind of worried. "He ain't called."

"Not great." I told him, trying to be honest. Ponyboy was watching me closely, and I didn't want to say too much, so I kept my voice quiet. "Scared." I kept it short, hoping Pony thought I was talking about myself.

"Yeah. I don't blame him after what he saw." He was quiet for a minute. "He eating?"

"Doesn't really look like it." He sighed on the other line. "I'll take care of it." I told him firmly, and he snorted.

"Yeah, alright. You two, be careful. Tell Pony I'm working on things here, and tell him that his brothers know. And call from a payphone. James doesn't want to pay long distance."

"Sure thing, Dal."

"Alright. Take care of yourself kid."

"Okay. Bye, Dal." I hung up the phone, turning to Pony. "He said to call him tomorrow night. He needs to talk to you about something." Pony nodded, about to say something, but James came out with his jacket still on.

"You…" He pointed at Pony, looking more tired than angry, which was a relief. "Give him the tour. Stay outta my room. And if Dallas sends any more kids up here, they're sleeping on the porch, got me?" He softened his words a little by messing up Ponyboy's hair as he walked by, and Pony gave a half grin.

"Yeah, I dig." Waving over his shoulder, he left the apartment and slammed the door.

"Is he…"

"He's always like that." Pony assured me, then proceeded to give me the fastest tour he could, pointing from where he stood to the two doors off the living room. "That's the bathroom. Don't go in his room. I haven't found blankets yet, but we can probably find some for you. It's hot here at night anyway. You can sleep on the couch. I'll take the floor."

"No way, man. I ain't taking your bed. The floor beats the ground anyway." He didn't argue, just nodded and shrugged a little. We needed to talk, but I had a feeling he wasn't ready yet. "Let's go to the store...get some more food. I didn't bring much, but I got some money."

"Where'd you get money?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"My old man's wallet. Figured he owed me after everything. After that bus ticket, I got ten dollars. Should last us a while, but we're gonna have to get jobs." He nodded, laughing a little.

"You stole from your dad?" He looked more impressed than disapproving, so I grinned.

"Yeah. So where's the closest grocery store. Let's go spend some of his money."

It turns out the closest grocery store wasn't too far. The streets were pretty crowded, not like home, and all sorts of people crowded around us as we walked. I guessed it was because it was kind of late...rush hour, which was a problem back home only if you were driving, which we never really did. I didn't have my permit or anything...hadn't even bothered trying for it. Two-Bit had offered to teach me to drive once or twice, but he was drunk most of the time these days so I didn't bother taking him up on it. I knew he was just worried about Pony, like everyone else. I wondered when Dal would tell everyone that I was with him...and if that would make them worry less or more. Probably more.

Steve would probably teach me too, or Soda or Darry, but they were all so worried about Pony and his brothers were so busy working more and trying to save money in case they needed a lawyer or something. I didn't like bothering them, especially now that they were so busy. I had been staying with Dally more often, not wanting to bug them, but some nights it was just too far to walk and Darry had assured me that I could come by any time.

Ponyboy led me to the grocery store, glancing around as we entered. It bugged me, seeing him like this. Like me. I shook the thought off, grinning easily when he looked over at me and grabbing a basket. "Alright, what should we get?"

"Uh...pasta's cheap. So's rice." I headed toward the aisles, him following along, and I grabbed more pasta, then headed to the back to grab some chicken. The whole time, he stared at his feet, walking behind me, not offering any kind of input on what I was buying.

"You want anything else?" I asked as we headed up to the checkout counter. He shook his head, so I paid and we carried the bags back to the empty apartment. It wasn't until we were putting the groceries away that I finally found the courage to say something. "What have you been up to up here?" I asked, figuring it was a good place to start.

"Uh...just...hanging around. Found the library. Read for a while. Went to...a church on Sunday."

"Yeah? You stopped going after Two-Bit just about got us kicked out." He laughed a little, nodding.

"Yeah. It was...uh...interesting."

"Cool, man."

"That's about it." He shrugged. "I need to look for a job. Haven't really been looking much yet. I got some money left...just didn't really know where to look." I nodded, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring me some water. He put the chicken in the freezer and I glanced over his shoulder, but found nothing other than the chicken he'd just put in there and an ice cube tray. What did James eat? Maybe he kept his food in his room...not that _that_ made any sense, but surely the guy had to eat.

"We can look around tomorrow." I suggested. I didn't know what kind of job we'd be able to find, but we could at least look, and I could get a sense of what the city was like. He kind of had a head start on me there. From what I could tell this wasn't a great part of town, but no one had bugged me when I'd been walking from the bus stop, stopping at a filling station to get directions. The guy had given me kind of a funny look, staring down at the address on the scrap of paper for a minute.

"You uh...turn on this road…" He'd given me the directions, looking the whole time like he wanted to ask me something, but he'd just waved goodbye, telling me to take it easy. I had a feeling Pony might have stopped by on his way to this place and asked for directions.

For a minute, we stood in awkward silence, and I wondered how I was supposed to get him to talk to me about all this. He saved me the trouble, though. "You wanna take a shower? I'm gonna look around and find some blankets." I just nodded, figuring it couldn't hurt after two days on a bus, and spend the entire shower trying to figure out how to talk to him...what I was supposed to say. He was my best friend. Why was it so hard to talk to him? I knew why, though. He'd watched someone murder his foster sister...who knew if that was all they'd done to her. And then the same people had almost killed _him_. He was scared. I didn't blame him.

When I got out of the shower, I found Pony in the living room, sitting on the sofa, a pile of blankets on the floor. "You sure you don't want the couch?" He asked, but I shook my head, using three of the blankets as a bed and leaving the fourth one to cover up with. It would sure beat sleeping outside in the lot. "You must be tired...after that bus ride. I couldn't really sleep on the bus."

"Yeah, it was rough." I laid down on the blankets, but it was hot enough that I didn't need to cover up with one. He switched off the light, and I heard him lay down, even though it was only about nine-thirty. I was exhausted, but we had to talk. I couldn't just let him live with this alone. "Tell me about it man." I almost whispered, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. It had just gotten dark out, so the only light in the room was from the moon, barely shining in the window.

"About what?" He asked, but he couldn't fool me.

"Your foster brothers...the guys you lived with, came to the house. Talked to Darry and Soda. Told 'em that guy beat on you all the time...put out cigarettes on your arms when he caught you smoking." I hesitated. "That why you ain't been smoking?"

"Can't really afford it right now." He mumbled.

"What else did he do to you?" I asked, letting the words out and regretting them as soon as I did. What a way to ask that. "I mean...you can talk to me. You know my parents...they beat the shit out of me and screamed at me...kicked me out of the house all the time. So whatever it was...you can tell me." He was quiet and I tried something else. "Can you tell me about the girl?"

"Lianne?"

"Yeah." He sighed beside me.

"She came to the foster house after I did. She was...loud. Liked to fight. She fought back when he went after her. The rest of us just kind of...tried to avoid him. She didn't." He hesitated. "We walked to school together. Sometimes we snuck into the movies too. She liked 'em. And, uh...she stayed after school at the library to study. She was real smart."

"She sounds great."

"She was." He all but whispered. He took a deep breath then, and I knew he was gonna tell me. I sat up a little, wondering if I really wanted to hear this but knowing he needed to say it. "I was hiding at this bar, you know? He...Richard, had friends all over. The police. Bartenders and hoods and...hell a few bikers. But the bar out by the high school...I'd never seen him there. And when the bartender caught me sneaking in, he gave me a cherry soda and told me to stay out of trouble. I'd go out behind the bar and sit. There were lights out there and I could read books I got at the school library. I went there every weekend, especially on Sundays when the library wasn't open. I always got home before they closed though."

"How come?"

"I...I just did." He mumbled, sounded embarrassed or scared or something. "That night...a few weeks ago...I was at the bar. Out back. I was reading...the lights were bright by the back door, and...the cars pulled up. Lianne...she was in the truck with Richard and he threw her out...the other guys...his friends...they were surrounding her. She couldn't...she screamed but one of 'em hit her." He choked on his words and I scooted closer to the sofa. "I didn't do anything, Johnny. I couldn't...I was so scared. He had a knife. They got her on the ground...one of them was a cop! They...he...all of them…" He was breathing real shallow, gasping on the sofa, and I got up, kneeling in front of him and grabbing for his hand. He squeezed mind, hard. "I just sat there. I couldn't move." He was shaking as he sobbed, and I stood, pushing him to sit up, then sitting beside him and wrapping my arms around him.

"You don't have to…"

"I tried to protect her. He'd go after her sometimes and I'd try to help. But at the bar I couldn't...they put something in her mouth so she couldn't scream. Then he stabbed her. They...they'd already dug the hole...out behind the bar."

I squeezed his shoulder harder, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "You couldn't have fought all of them. You know that, right?"

"I didn't even try." He almost shouted it, but his voice seemed to die in his throat, and he went back to whispering. "They saw me...by the bar. I...think I...I think I yelled at him or...I can't remember. But one guy had a knife and another one had a busted bottle." He pointed to his face. "The cop got me with a broken bottle. I don't know if he had his gun...guess he figured it would get too much attention. Another one cut my side but...I got out of the jacket. That's how I got away. Rick grabbed the sleeve."

"They found your jacket. Darry and Soda thought you were dead...before Dal explained. I thought it was gonna kill 'em. I never saw Darry so upset. He misses you so much. Sodapop too. Heck...everyone misses you. And I couldn't let you do this alone, you know?" He leaned his head against my shoulder and I held him tight, knowing I wasn't his brother but hoping I could comfort him since Soda wasn't there.

"I didn't even try." He whispered.

"If you had, you'd be in the ground with Lianne." I reminded him, patting his back. "They would have killed you. Hell, they tried." He nodded, wiping his face.

"Are they okay?" He asked. "Darry and Soda?"

"No." I couldn't lie to him. "I mean...now that they know you're alive, they're a lot better. At some point Darry put a hole in the wall, but everyone's too scared to ask why." He laughed, still crying a little, but sounding better. Less scared, and more like my friend. "Two-Bit's a wreck. He thinks it's his fault. Steve's pretty upset too."

"Dal said it was because Soda wasn't any fun anymore." I snorted.

"He really ain't. Doesn't go out or nothing...just sits around the house most nights. Man, he misses you more than anything."

"I miss him too."

"Yeah...they got their cards. They loved 'em...about started crying. Darry especially. Things ain't the same without you, ya know?" He nodded a little, sniffling in the dark. "Hey, we're gonna be fine. We'll get jobs and figure things out up here, and they'll take care of things down there."

"You don't know this guy, Johnny. He knows everybody...grew up with a bunch of crooks that became police officers. No way anyone's gonna believe me if I tell them what he did."

"Dally and the guys are working on figuring that out. Don't worry." He nodded beside me, sighing quietly. "You ain't alone anymore, man. I'm sticking around, long as James doesn't kick me out."

"I don't think Dal will let him." He told me, and I heard the grin in his voice.

"Nah...probably not." I sat up and stared at him in the dark. I could barely see, but I hoped he was feeling better. "We'll be fine. Okay?"

"Yeah." I pat him on the back, moving back down to my makeshift bed on the floor. I had just closed my eyes when I heard him lay back down. I was glad...he looked like he needed to sleep. And eat, but we'd have to deal with that later.

"Thank you for coming, Johnny." He mumbled, reaching down and touching my arm. I grabbed his hand, squeezing for a second.

"Anytime, Pony. Anytime."

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_


	14. Communication

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I try to answer all of the ones I can (Guests cannot recieve private messages. Sorry!) as quickly as I can. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It was actually one of the first ones I wrote. (I skip around in my writing a lot). :) Also, it goes without saying, but I do not own the Outsiders.**_

 _Communication_

The phone was ringing. Glory, it couldn't be past five am, I thought, feeling like my limbs were weighted down with lead as I tried to remember what day it was. But I had to answer the phone. With everything going on, just sleeping through it wasn't an option, even if I had work in a few hours. Thursday. It was Thursday. I felt like I'd just gotten off a roof, and in a few hours, I'd be back on one. Still, we needed the money more than ever, and besides, the phone was still ringing. It could be news about my brother, I told myself. So I managed to drag myself upright, then into the living room as quickly as I could, picking up on what must have been the tenth ring. Whoever it was, they really wanted to reach me. Or Sodapop...but Sodapop was still asleep, and Steve was groaning on the couch, begging me to make it stop as he rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head. He'd been staying over more and more. The night before he'd shown up with a bloody nose so I'd told him to stay as long as he wanted.

"Hello?" I all but groaned, knowing I shouldn't answer the phone like that. Once, Ponyboy had answered the phone like that when I'd called the house, and I'd snapped at him. I'd bitten his head off. Not too long after the funeral...heck, maybe three months. Over the last nine months, it was as if my brain had decided to relive every single time I'd yelled at him...every time we'd fought or hadn't gotten along. Every time I'd used the phrase 'use your head.' I'd been his guardian, and all I'd ever done was yell at him. Of course, he'd been mouthy plenty of times, but he was a fourteen-year-old kid who'd just lost both of his parents. I'd do better. I swore I would, as soon as I got him back. That thought was shoved from my brain, however, when the voice on the phone spoke up.

"Darry?" The thought that it could be my little brother hadn't even occurred to me. It had been so long...so long since I'd talked to him. That day. It had been the day they'd taken him away. When was the last time we'd had a real conversation that hadn't ended in one of us yelling...usually me? I had no idea. Immediately my throat was closing. The words of the boys from that foster home came back….everything that man had done to my baby brother. Everything I hadn't been able to protect him from.

"Ponyboy." I choked on his name but it came out anyway. "Pony? Little buddy, is that you?" I asked, and on the other side of the room, Steve pushed back the blankets, sitting up and staring at me in the dark, suddenly wide awake.

"Yeah. Darry...I'm sorry." His voice was weak...barely there. It had been so long...his voice was deeper. Despite how quiet it was, I could tell. He was older. Almost a year older than the last time I'd seen him...hugged him. It wasn't just the depth of his voice that was different though...he _sounded different_. Just those four words...he sounded afraid. Like someone who was used to being afraid. Like Johnny. Glory, he sounded just like Johnny, who had gone missing. Dally didn't seem concerned though, assuring us Johnny was fine, and I hoped he had been sent by Dally to whenever Pony was. That thought was actually comforting. Pony would need someone to look out for him, and those two had always taken care of each other.

Ponyboy was on the phone. My eyes were hot...I couldn't start crying. Not now. Not when I'd finally been given the chance to talk to him. "Don't be sorry, kiddo. You don't have to be sorry…"

"I miss you. I love you, Darry." He said the words like he'd been holding them in for too long. He probably had. Nine months.

"I love you too...I miss you so much, Pony." I was whispering, dropping into my recliner, my eyes shut as I focused on his voice. I wanted him to keep talking. I just wanted to hear him talk. "Are you okay?"

"Did...I don't...I know…" He stammered, grasping for his words. I could picture it...I knew exactly what he looked like when he was grasping for words, trying to find something to say. Or maybe I didn't...what if he looked different? He would have scars on his arms. Cigarette burns and bruises. What else had that man done to my little brother?

"Dally told us." I interrupted. "You know Mark and Tyler? The other boys in that house?"

"Sure." He said, apparently trying to catch up with my train of thought.

"They came over...told Soda and me everything. They mentioned they'd seen you with Dally, and Dally told us...told us you'd gone to him." He was silent. I wanted to ask him why...why hadn't he told us? Why hadn't he talked to Soda on the phone that last time...told him how bad it really was? But I knew why. "I'm so sorry, Pony." I whispered, knowing Steve could hear...could see me crying like a baby as I talked to my little brother. I couldn't have cared less. "I'm sorry I let this happen. I'm sorry I couldn't stop this." It had been my one job...after our parents had died, it had been my most important job. Take care of my brothers...especially Ponyboy. The youngest...the baby. Sure, there had been times when he'd driven me crazy, and I'd wondered how Mom and Dad could have put up with him...and then I'd hit him. Then I'd realized how bad our relationship had gotten. And then they'd taken him away from me before I could fix it.

"You didn't know." He whispered, sounding like he was crying too. What I wouldn't give to be able to reach out and hug him. To tell him that it was going to be okay. But I couldn't make those words come. "I didn't want you to know."

"Glory, Pony." I choked out, shaking my head. He was silent on the other line, and I reigned in my temper. I wasn't mad at him...but holy hell did I hate that man. Never before had I wanted to kill someone with my bare hands before, but I think I would enjoy seeing him die. He hadn't wanted me to know. Why? Because he knew I couldn't do anything? Or because he'd been afraid I _would_ do something?

"I"m sorry." He apologized again in that same, dead tone.

"No...Pony…" I didn't know what to say. It had been so long...heck, one of the last real conversations we'd had had ended in me hitting him. I still had nightmares about that. "Are you okay?" I asked, taking a deep breath. He seemed as willing to move on to a new topic as I was. It was a stupid question...he wasn't okay...well, he hadn't been. But maybe he was now.

"Yeah...now...I think I'm far enough away." He took a long, shuddering breath and my own breath caught a little. He was on the run, hiding from a man that wanted to kill him. To kill my baby brother. "I didn't think I was going to get away." He admitted, and I heard the tears in his voice. "They caught me...after they killed her. I barely got away...I ran for so long."

"It's gonna be alright, honey. I promise." I had no way to know that, but I would uphold that promise if it killed me. I'd make it okay...that was my job. The most important one I had.

"They _killed_ her, Dar."

"I know." One hand was in a fist so tight it was making my muscles cramp, but at least I hadn't hit anything. Who knew was my little brother had seen them do to that poor girl. "I know, Pony. I'm so sorry." He'd lived with her. Maybe they'd been friends. He'd tried to look out for her, according to those guys. He'd watched them kill, and who knew what else, a girl out behind a bar.

"There was nothing I could do. There were so many of them…" He was crying now, and it broke my heart.

"Of course you couldn't. There wasn't a thing you could have done. You're lucky _you_ got away." I reminded him, hoping he didn't feel guilty about this...that he didn't have to live with that too. "Pony…"

"I thought they were going to kill me, Darry." He sobbed. "I'm sorry I didn't come to you. I'm so sorry...I should have told you...but you couldn't do anything. Not against him."

"Pony, we're gonna take care of this, okay? Don't worry. You just sit tight. Are you okay there?" I didn't ask where 'there' was...where my little brother was. Dally had probably told him not to tell, and besides, if I knew, I might go get him. "Do you need anything?"

"No." He sniffed, apparently trying to pull himself together. "No, I'm alright."

"If you need anything, kiddo...you just let me know, okay? You can call anytime. For anything. Anything you need, I'll find a way to take care of it." I didn't know how. But I would figure it out. Anything. I had a lot to make up for.

"I miss you guys so much." He murmured. "I'm so sorry, Darry."

"You gotta stop apologizing, kiddo." I chastised him gently. Opening my eyes for the first time, I saw Steve, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped as he listened solemnly. I didn't bother asking him to go away. "None of this is your fault."

"I shouldn't have run that night."

"I shouldn't have hit you." I reminded him, shaking my head as though he could see. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

"I shouldn't have been home so late." I smiled a bit, recognizing that tone. He was being stubborn. I thought of our mom and dad and chuckled a little. He certainly got it honest. Every one of us was stubborn as mules. He seemed to relax a little on the other end of the line, even laughing a little when I did.

"How about we decide what was whose fault when you get home, kiddo? We can talk about it then."

"Sounds good…" His voice trailed off.

"We're gonna fix this, Pony. You gotta believe me. We're gonna get it straightened out...make sure it's safe for you to come back."

"You don't know this guy, Darry." He was back to whispering again.

"Richard Norton." I said the name like I would a curse. "I know who he is, kiddo. And I'm gonna make sure he pays for what he did."

"Darry, don't!" He sounded panicked now. "Listen, he _killed_ Lianne. They...they took her out behind that bar…" He trailed off, his breath coming in gasps, and I cut him off.

"Look, we aren't gonna do anything reckless. I promise. You don't have to worry. We've got the whole gang, and Tim's gang...we're going to be careful. I know this guy is no joke."

"They'd already dug the hole." He whispered, and I closed my eyes, wishing more than anything that he was _here_ and not _there_. I wanted him to be in that room with me so I could put my arms around him. It had been so long.

"Pony…" I didn't even know what to say, and apparently, he didn't want to have this conversation any more than I did, as he immediately switched topics.

"Dally… he gave you the cards?" I felt myself smile, my eyes closing again as I leaned back in my recliner. They were both on the refrigerator...two portraits, one of me, and one of Steve and Soda on lined notebook paper. They were so well done it was almost uncanny.

"Yeah, he did. They were great, kiddo. Thank you." I told him softly, wanting to hug him again. "When you get home, we'll celebrate all of our birthdays, okay? Hell, we'll have a party."

"Okay. Sounds good." He sniffed a little, and I wondered again where he was. I knew better than to ask though. Dally had most likely told him to keep his mouth shut. He always did listen to Dally. Not to mention, I was scared that if I knew where he was, I'd go after him, and who knew if that Richard Norton could follow me to him. Or maybe even the cops, and they'd send him right back to that asshole. No one was gonna hurt my brother. Never again. I thought of the cigarette burns and the beatings...that time was over. I opened my eyes again, finding myself face to face with Steve who was still watching me from the couch. I yawned, fighting it, hoping he wasn't offended...or think I wanted to get off the phone. "Shit Dar! I forgot the time difference. It's four am there…"

"Don't swear, Ponyboy." I chastised automatically, the habit kicking back in, and he gave a half-incredulous laugh.

"Sorry." He muttered, sounding like Johnny again. I didn't want my little brother to sound like that...like he ever had any reason at all to fear me. He continued before I could say anything about that. "I just meant...don't you have work?"

I hesitated, but he'd know if I lied. "Yeah, but it's okay, kiddo. It doesn't matter. I'm just so glad you called, Ponyboy. I've missed you so much...I've been trying...with the state."

"I know...Soda told me. Dally too." He paused. "I should let you go, Dar."

I knew he was right, but I didn't want to let _him_ go. "No...no, Ponyboy...wait." I was grasping for straws, but before I could say anything, there was a voice in the background, shouting I couldn't understand. "Pony?" I asked, my hackles raising. No one better be shouting at my brother...not now.

"Yeah...sorry, Dar. I'm on a payphone." He chuckled a little and I relaxed. "Apparently people use these things at six am in...here." He caught himself...he'd been about to tell me. I swallowed hard, thinking about my little brother somewhere, alone, calling me on a payphone. "You should go back to bed. You got work."

"I ain't sleepy anymore, kiddo." I told him truthfully.

"I'll call again." He told me quietly, a smile in his voice. "You'll fall off a roof if you don't get some sleep." I chuckled with him, even though there was no way I could get back to sleep now.

"You're probably right." I didn't want to let him go. "Next time, I'll wake up Sodapop too."

"Next time, I'll try to call earlier….or later. I just...I couldn't sleep…"

"Nightmares?" I asked softly, feeling another pang of regret. I couldn't help him from here. Couldn't sit with him while he tried to go back to sleep.

"Yeah. I just...I've wanted to call you, especially since I got here. I was always afraid to call the house...I was afraid they'd trace the number to me somehow."

"I know, kiddo. That was smart." I hesitated, but I needed to know. "Where's this payphone?"

"Right down the street from where I'm staying."

"With a friend of Dally's?" I heard a smirk in his voice when he answered.

"Yeah...a _friend_ of his." I didn't bother asking. With Dally, you could never tell what kind of friend's he'd have. I just hoped whoever it was wasn't screwing with my brother...as long as they left him alone, they could be in the Mafia for all I cared.

"This friend treat you alright?" I asked. He hesitated, but he was being truthful when he answered.

"Yeah, he's...he's fine. I can see why he's friends with Dally." I snorted a little.

"It's not for long, kiddo. I promise, as soon as I can, I'm gonna get you home."

"I'm alright, Darry. I"m okay here." He was trying to reassure me. I laughed a little, wiping at my eyes. "I guess I'll let you go."

"Let me talk to him." I jumped a little...somehow Steve's presence had slipped my mind.

"What?" I asked, my jaw dropping a little.

"What?" Pony asked me. Steve held out a hand, eyebrows raised.

"No...um….Steve...he wants to talk to you."

"What!" This time Pony sounded incredulous, but I just laughed.

"He misses you." Steve rolled his eyes as I started to hand him the phone. "I love you, kiddo. Call back soon, okay?"

"I will, Darry. I promise."

"Alright, little buddy. Here's Steve." It almost physically hurt to hand over that phone. It was like handing over my little brother again...like letting someone take him away. But this was Steve, and Ponyboy was far away...but not for long. I had to get him back.

Steve took the phone, tucking it against his ear, and grinned a little. "Hey kid." He paused, rolling his eyes and laughing a little. "Yeah, you woke me up." He snorted at Pony's response to that. "You little shit." I put a hand over my mouth, shaking my head and smiling at their constant bickering. But suddenly Steve was serious. "Don't you worry about that Ponyboy, you hear? We're gonna take...don't get mouthy, kid. Shut up and listen. We're gonna take care of this and get you home." A longer pause and Steve closed his eyes for a second, shaking his head. "Kid, you ain't gotta worry about that, savvy? We ain't gonna let anything happen, not to any of us." A shorter pause and Steve was smiling again. "Yeah, yeah, I dig just fine kid. Go back to sleep. Stop wandering the streets at six in the damn morning. I'll see you around." There was a pause. "Yeah, I will." He squeezed the phone, a little, smiling for a second. "You too, kid. Bye." Handing me the phone, he grabbed the blanket and dropped back onto the sofa.

"So...you miss him?" I couldn't resist.

"Shut up and go to sleep, Superman. Some of us have work in a few hours." I closed my eyes then, my head dropping into my hands. "He's fine, Darry."

"He ain't fine. He's miles away, God knows where…well, Dally knows where." I muttered.

"He's staying with a friend of Dal's. You know Dally wouldn't send the kid to live with anyone that would hurt him. Besides, we both know Johnny's with him. Those two look after each other. We're gonna take care of this and then we're gonna get the kid home. Both of them." I nodded, closing my eyes and laying back in the recliner.

Seven am came early, and Soda's voice pulled me from a half sleep. "Dar? What are you doing in here?" He asked, and when I forced my eyes open, he held out an egg sandwich with bacon.

"Thanks," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and taking the plate. "Pony called." He froze on his way back to the kitchen, turning to stare at me.

"What?" He almost snapped. I couldn't really blame him. When I'd found out that Sodapop had talked to him, all three times, I'd been pretty upset too.

"I'm sorry...I should have woken you up. It was four am and…"

"What did he say? Is he okay?" Soda cut me off, breakfast forgotten.

"Yeah, I think so. Just told me he was staying with a friend of Dally's." Of course, he'd said more than that, but it had been the first conversation we'd had in so long...and it had hurt. But it was so good to hear from him. Glory, I loved my little brother so much. I missed him, but I knew he was alive. That was all that really mattered. When I'd thought he was dead...that he'd been killed and I hadn't been there to protect him...well, I'd never felt pain like that. He was okay. He was...as safe as he could be, considering. "I'll wake you up next time, I swear," I assured Soda. "He said he'd call again."

Soda sat down on the sofa and nodded, staring down at the floor. "Did he say where he was calling from?"

"A payphone close to where he's staying."

"Is Dal's friend treating him okay?"

"He said the guy was fine...said he understood why Dal was friends with him." Soda chuckled.

Ponyboy hadn't asked anything about things here...not really. I was kind of glad. Despite my attempts to talk to our social worker, either our old one or the new one, I had no more information or idea what to do than I'd had before. Mark and Tyler weren't gonna talk. I wasn't going to bother bugging the other girl, Rita. From what Mark and Tyler had said, she didn't have much to do with anyone else in the house. The woman was in on it with him...either she hit the kids too or she just didn't care that her husband did. I didn't know how to fix this. But I was gonna figure it out. I figured I'd need Dally's help though. He hadn't been around too much...he'd been sticking close to Buck's and I hated it there. Then again, if he didn't come out soon, I'd have to go find him.

I'd told Ponyboy not to step foot near that place. Sodapop had told him too, so as far as I knew, he'd really listened. I think he had. Pony wasn't really into country music or drugs, which was really the only things that went on down there, apart from the gambling and fighting. At least, he better not be into drugs. Country music I could live with, but I doubted it. Still, I was glad he'd gone to Dallas. He'd saved my little brother's life, and I'd punched him in the face. I couldn't really feel too bad about that though. He'd known that Pony was in trouble months ago, and he hadn't told us. Still, he'd looked out for him and I owed him.

I managed to get myself dressed and forced myself to stay awake as I scarfed down the sandwich Soda had made me. I was planning on going to the social worker's office again after work, but I was starting to doubt that it would do me any good. I reached into my pocket for my wallet then, pulling out the card Officer Charlton had given me. It was a stretch, but we did need a cop. He was the only one I knew. Besides, he'd actually seemed upset about my little brother. Replacing the card in my pocket, I wondered if it would be worth a shot. The social worker wasn't going to help us, and no matter how much I wanted to hunt that man down, killing him wouldn't solve the problem. The fuzz would know it was us anyway, and I couldn't help Pony from jail. No, we needed someone who would believe us...who would make sure it was safe for him to come home. If I could just get custody, we'd protect him from Richard Norton and all his pals. Tim would help, I knew that for sure, and so would Dally. But what we really needed was for the cops to find out who'd killed Lianne, and that would put Richard away for good, probably his friends too. But how were we supposed to get them to believe us without giving away Ponyboy. Surely they'd need to talk to him.

I put all of it out of my mind. For now, I had to focus on work, no matter how my thoughts kept wandering to my baby brother. He'd been right...I really would fall off a roof if I didn't keep my mind on my work and start getting more sleep. Grabbing my keys, I headed out to the truck, Soda and Steve close behind as Steve told Sodapop about his brief conversation with Ponyboy. It was going to be a long day.

 _ **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**_


	15. Employment

**_Thank you to everyone who as read and reviewed my story. I appreciate it so much. Enjoy the new chapter. :)_**

 _Employment_

I hung up the payphone, glancing over my shoulder at the guy waiting behind me to use the phone, and headed back to James's apartment. Despite talking to Johnny and feeling better about...well, about everything, I still had those awful nightmares just about every night, and I was exhausted. I'd just somehow managed to stop screaming so much. The asshole had taught me that particular lesson. Every night for the first week or so, I'd

Every night for the first week or so, I'd wake up screaming, and he'd come in, giving me a punch in the nose for waking him, or sometimes grabbing me and throwing me onto the floor, his foot finding my stomach or side. He liked kicking people when they were down. After that first week, I'd managed to stop screaming so much. I guess fear of getting beat up was a pretty good motivator. Some nights, I'd just stay awake, staring at the ceiling in the dark. Then after I'd tried telling the social working and being brought back to that hellhole, I hadn't slept in that room much anymore…actually, I hadn't slept much at all.

I couldn't remember all of the nightmares. Some of them were just like the ones that I'd started having after our parents died. Glory those had freaked Darry and Soda out. Soda had started sleeping in my room, his arm around me, and that had helped. Darry's idea had been to take me to the doctor, who had suggested more exercise, me reading, basically just exhausting myself before bed so I wouldn't dream, but that hadn't worked too well. Sodapop's presence had helped a lot more. It had made me feel safe, even in my sleep, to know that my big brother was there and that he'd protect me. But without him, first at the boy's home, and then at the foster home, they had gotten worse.

Some, though, I could remember. Dreams about a funeral. Sometimes my own, sometimes Darry's or Sdoa's. Those were the worst. I'd wake up sobbing, so desperate to talk to my brothers, but knowing there was no way I could. It would hurt so much my heart would feel like it was breaking and my stomach would knot, and I'd rock back and forth in the bed at the boy's home, my arms tight around myself and I'd pretend that Soda was there, holding me, or that Darry was sitting on the bed with me, rubbing my back and promising that everything would be okay. Other times I would dream about going home. Those were almost worse. I'd wake up, the hope rising up in my throat and turning into sobs when I realized where I was. Where I wasn't.

I pushed those thoughts away as I walked down the street, hands in my pockets, toward the apartment. I didn't want to remember that. I didn't want to think about the nights I'd spent curled up in a ball in some bed by myself, crying and missing my family so bad everything seemed to actually hurt. I didn't want to remember being alone. I had Johnny now, and I'd talked to Darry and he knew I was okay. He'd sounded so relieved...and I knew he missed me. That made me feel better somehow, that my brother missed me. Even after how we'd parted, I'd been scared that he'd been glad to get rid of me.

Talking to Darry had been...fantastic. I'd missed him so much, and the whole time I'd been talking to him, I'd felt like I might start crying right out in public in front of everyone...well...everyone out at 6 am. Then Steve had wanted to talk to me...he'd actually asked Darry to give him the phone so he could talk to me. Called me a little shit and everything, just like old times.

I was surprised to realize I actually missed Steve. It had been good to talk to him...to have him assure me that they were being careful. That they were looking out for each other. I glanced back at the phone, wishing I could call Darry again...ask him if I could talk to Soda. And Two-Bit, if he was around. I hadn't asked about Two-Bit. Or Soda...or any of them. Why hadn't I asked how they were doing? I swore I would the next time I called. But I'd give it a day or two, and make sure I called when everyone would be awake and have time to talk. Not to mention, I was still worried they would somehow trace the call...figure out where I was calling from.

I slipped into the apartment and found Johnny sitting up in his nest of blankets, grinning up at me as he rubbed his eyes. "Hey man. Where you been? I woke up and you were gone." He didn't sound upset, but I could tell he'd been worried.

I'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone else care what I was up to...who noticed when I took off. The only time Richard had ever noticed me had been when I'd been in his way. "Couldn't sleep," I told him, dropping my eyes and then dropping onto the sofa. "I called Darry."

"Yeah?" He leaned in a little, and I shrugged, wondering why it was hard for me to talk to him. It had been so long since I'd really talked to him…or anyone, for that matter. I'd gotten into the habit of keeping everything to myself. But Johnny was like a third brother, always had been, and he'd worry if I just took off. I swore I'd remember to let him know if I was going somewhere next time. I hated the thought of him regretting coming here.

"Yeah." I made myself say, trying to meet his eyes. I only managed it for a few seconds before I had to look down. "Yeah, it was...it was great to talk to him. We hadn't...not since that day…when I had to go. And…I was able to call Soda but not Darry from that boy's home and…the foster home." Johnny climbed to his feet, moving over to the sofa beside me, his arm draping around my shoulders.

For some reason, my eyes were hot and I wiped at them, hoping he didn't notice. If he did, he didn't say anything. Instead, he just pat my back, waiting. He always knew when I needed to talk and when I just needed to sit, working up to it. "I thought Darry hated me, you know? Before...I thought he wanted to get rid of me. But...that was before I found out...before I found out what it was like to live with someone that actually hated me." I snorted a little, but Johnny was quiet on the sofa beside me. It wasn't funny...not really, but I couldn't believe I'd thought Darry had hated me. Compared to Richard...well...there was no comparison. "What are we gonna do, man?" I finally asked, voicing the question at last. "I mean...I just…" I shrugged, pulling my sleeves down when they started to creep up, despite how hot it was. Johnny noticed, of course. He didn't say anything, though...not about that.

"We'll go look around today...see if anyone's hiring." He told me instead.

"Hiring underage greasers?" He laughed a little at my forced joke, and I made myself smile.

"I'm seventeen, man, old enough to get a job, and you look at least sixteen." I didn't believe him, but it was nice of him to say anyway. "How else are we supposed to buy cigarettes?" I shook my head.

"I haven't smoked in a while." I admitted, hating the shame I felt at that, and the pit that opened up in my stomach when I thought about lighting a cigarette...how I tensed, like I was waiting for the pain. He'd done it...he'd made me quit smoking in the end.

"Yeah…probably not a bad idea to quit. It's expensive. Bad for you too, I guess…" He glanced over at me again. "Does it hurt?" He asked, nodding toward my arms. I shook my head, tugging at my sleeves again. He hadn't seen the marks, and I didn't want him to.

"No...not anymore." I lied a little. Some of the last ones he'd given me still stung when I touched them, the blisters white and tender. He pat me on the back again, then jumped to his feet. Used to, it had been me looking out for us, or so it had always seemed. Johnny was usually real quiet, so I'd talked for him sometimes when I knew he wasn't comfortable. Now it was like we were acting like the other, me real quiet and him taking charge. I didn't mind too much.

"Come on. Let's get dressed and go. There's got to be some place around here willing to hire us. If we're gonna eat, we gotta get money somehow."

"Yeah…"

"Come on, Pone. It's gonna be fine." He reached out a hand, and I grabbed it after a second, pulling myself up and finally smiling for real.

"You think so?"

He grinned. "I know so. Come on. Let's go find a job."

I dressed in the bathroom, changing into one of the other long sleeved shirts Dally had thrown into the bag. Thankfully he hadn't included any short sleeves. I wasn't sure if it had been deliberate...I doubted it. Anyway, I only had about five shirts that I'd been washing in the sink and leaving over the tub to dry...same for all my other laundry. I was sure there was a place where I could wash my laundry around somewhere, but I didn't want to pay for it, so I just used to shower curtain. James didn't seem to care. Some time I might ask him where he did his laundry, but I was kind of scared to talk much to him no matter how friendly he'd seemed once or twice...he could kick me out any time.

Johnny and I headed out, me sweating almost immediately when we stepped outside the door. "You wanna borrow something cooler, man? You're gonna burn up...it's hot up here." I shook my head. I'd started wearing long sleeves to hide the bruises and burns almost immediately after moving in with Richard. The thought of other people seeing my arms...what that guy had done to me...well, I just didn't want to.

"I'm fine." I assured him. Nodding and letting it drop, he turned left, moving us in the opposite direction from the bus stop where we'd both arrived. There were corner shops and bakeries and business offices for lawyers and other guys in suits, but neither of us had any experience in any of that. No law office was going to hire us, that was for sure, and to work at a filling station you probably had to have some experience fixing cars, which I didn't.

We were getting further and further into the run-down part of the city, and there were fewer and fewer businessmen in suits and more guys that looked like us, but with slicked back hair and leather jackets over tank tops bumming around. Neither of us had any hair grease, so we'd just done the best we could. Some of the guys gathered on street corners, cigarettes in their hands or mouths, and it reminded me of the gang...how we'd all hang out at the DX, smoking and talking. None of them spared us a glance. I figured new people showed up in this city all the time, trying to hide out or make a life up here, then disappearing. It was such a big city, so full of people all in a hurry to go wherever it was they were trying to get, none of them interested in a couple of poor greaser kids desperate to find jobs.

The first place we found with a 'help wanted' sign out front was a filling station with a garage out back. We didn't bother going in. Neither of us could do much with cars, apart from changing tires and oil. When it came to engines, we were both pretty lost. The next place was a convenient store, but the manager took one look at us and told us to beat it, even though the guys working the counter looked greasier than we did. After that we tried a movie house, but the manager wasn't there. There was just a quiet girl behind the register who suggested we come back the next day.

We walked for about two and a half hours, trying diners and movie houses and walking up and down streets without finding a place willing to hire two greasers from Tulsa who'd never had jobs before. I had to admit...I couldn't really blame them. It was almost two when we found the grocery store. It was on a corner by itself, with a large mostly empty parking lot out front. I met Johnny's eyes and shrugged. It couldn't hurt to try. It wasn't like we had anything else to do, and besides, we'd been walking for ages, and it would feel like a waste to go back to the apartment with nothing to show for it. He stuck his hands in his pocket and we both headed inside, the bell above the door ringing when it closed behind us, and a familiar face peered at me from behind the cash register.

"Hey, Mike." Johnny gave me a look, but he had a pretty good poker face and she was looking at me, not him, so she didn't really notice.

"Hey, Sue." I headed over to the counter, grinning a little, and Johnny followed, hands stuck in his pockets.

"Who's your friend?" She asked, nodding to Johnny.

"Um...this is Patrick." I spit out Sodapop's middle name...the first one that came to mind in my panic. No one could know who he really was...if they found out, they could find me... _he_ could find me. I couldn't let him find me. Ever. I never wanted to see him again. Just the thought made me want to throw up, so I gave the first name that came to mind. Johnny gave a start next to me, then gave me another weird look, and this time she noticed. He cleared his throat, holding out a hand and trying to cover for it.

Johnny gave a start next to me, then gave me another weird look, and this time she noticed, looking back and forth between us. He cleared his throat, holding out a hand and trying to cover for us.

"Nice to meet ya." He told her, and she shook his hand with a grin, apparently deciding to let it go.

"Yeah, likewise. You gonna bring him to church next time too?" Johnny kept glancing at me from the corner of his eye and I knew I'd owe him an explanation when we left.

"Uh...maybe. If he wants to." I shrugged. "We actually came in 'cause we saw the sign." I jerked my head toward the 'help wanted' sign taped to the window.

"Oh yeah? You looking for a job? Around here?" She asked, the smile dubious.

"We'll take anything we can get." Johnny spoke up. She nodded, looking him up and down, then turning to me.

"I'll be right back." She told us, hopping down from the stool she was sitting on behind the counter, slipping through the door on the back wall. A minute later, she emerged once more, a taller guy following close behind. "Daddy, this is Mike, and his friend Patrick. Mike helped me out a few days ago." Once more, Johnny gave me a look from the corner of his eye but was trying not to be obvious. "They're looking for a job." He nodded, staring at us closely, arms crossed. He was a good foot taller than me, maybe even taller than Darry, with arms that reminded me of my brother as well. Johnny squirmed a little beside me and I tried to resist the urge to dig my toe into the floor. "And we're hiring." She prompted again, her grin widening, and he rolled his eyes.

"You boys have any experience? Every held a job before?"

"Uh...not really…" I mumbled a little, shoving my hands into my pockets.

"Still in school?" He asked.

"No...we...dropped out." Johnny told him. I guess that was kind of true.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen." Johnny said at the same time I said "sixteen." The man nodded slowly, humming and glancing back at Sue.

"Weren't you the boy that came to our church Sunday?" I nodded, feeling my ears get a little hot.

"Come on, Dad. They just moved here and they need a job." He lifted an eyebrow. "Mike really did help me out." That seemed to do it.

"It's part time, a dollar an hour, cash. Twenty hours a week. Monday through Friday, seven to eleven pm. You'll be putting up stock and cleaning the store while we're closing up. Still interested?"

"Yeah, it's perfect." Johnny grinned, nodding. I had to agree...it wasn't quite minimum wage, but we just needed enough for food and, eventually, bus tickets back. The fact that it was cash was even better. Hopefully, no one would ask him who his new stock boys were, which was perfect.

"My name's William. You can call me Mr. Williams."

"William...Williams?" Johnny asked, and I suppressed the smile. Mr. Williams didn't look too amused.

"That's what I said, boy. You got an issue with my name?"

"No sir." Johnny mumbled, dropping his eyes. The big man nodded.

"Good. The first time you're late, I'll find someone else. I catch you stealing, the police can deal with you. You two live around here?"

"Yes sir. Down the street." I told him, exaggerating a little. It was about three miles away, but we could walk it pretty fast.

"Your parents care that you're getting a job?" Johnny swallowed hard, staring back down at the floor, arms crossed hard over his chest, so I went with a partial truth.

"Our parents are dead, sir. We...we live with our cousin." He nodded slowly, eyes softening just a bit.

"You're brothers?" He asked, glancing over at his daughter. Johnny nodded before I could try to come up with any kind of lie, hoping he didn't look too close. Johnny was darker than me, his eyes dark brown while mine were green, no matter how I tried to pretend they were gray. Besides, my hair was peroxide blond, but it was obviously dyed.

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. You can start Monday." With that, he turned and headed back to the back, patting Sue on the shoulder on his way. "Back to work, baby girl."

"Thanks, Daddy!" She called, lifting an eyebrow and grinning at me. "Well…" She prompted, arms outstretched, and I had to laugh a little.

"Thanks, Sue."

"Sure thing. Now we're even." She crossed her arms, shifting her weight so that she was leaning on the counter.

"He always like that?" Johnny asked, eyes darting back to the door Mr. Williams had disappeared through.

"Touchy about his name? He was just messing with you...trying to scare the new guys. Did it work?" Johnny grinned then.

"Yeah. Suppose it did."

"Good. He likes to think he's scary. Make sure you come in early on Monday. He'll like that."

"Thanks again, Sue."

"Sure thing. I'll see you guys on Monday unless you needed something?" We both shook our heads and waved as we headed out the door, the bell ringing as it closed behind us.

Johnny turned to me as soon as we were a few feet away from the store. "Patrick?" He asked, looking more confused than upset.

"It was the first one I could think of."

"What's wrong with Johnny?" He demanded arms crossed as he paused on the sidewalk, glancing sideways at me. I hesitated. Was I being too paranoid? I thought about Richard...the knife in his hand as he'd held Li down. I remembered that cop reaching for me, and the glass bottle that had come down on my face...the immediate white-hot stab of pain. He must have seen the look on my face...how scared I looked, 'cause he started walking again, and I followed, eyes down.

"I told people my name was Mike cause I was scared they'd find me. I was just scared that if people figured out who you were...since you ran away and all…" I murmured.

"You were afraid he'd find you." He finished and I nodded. "Look, man, he ain't gonna find you. And even if he does, I got your back."

"You couldn't fight him, Johnny," I muttered arms crossed tight.

"It's Patrick, remember?" He was grinning and I untensed a little.

"Yeah, sure."

He hesitated on the sidewalk, missing a step. "Why 'Patrick'?"

"It's Sodapop's middle name," I admitted. He nodded, heaving a sigh.

"That's tuff enough, man. Patrick it is."

"We could call you Pat." He laughed, elbowing me as we headed back to James's place, not that there was anything to do there. I supposed we could head to the library later. I didn't want to risk it until there were more people out on the streets. I really had gotten paranoid. The thought kind of hurt, so I pushed it away. I'd gotten pretty good at pushing bad thoughts away, but not good enough.

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	16. Choices

**_Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! I appreciate it so much. :)_**

Choices

I'd gone back and forth all week. Officer Charlton might be able to help us. I knew that. It was also a risk I was afraid to take. What if he didn't believe me? What if he thought I was hiding Ponyboy and I was arrested or something...what would happen to Sodapop? Or what if this somehow led them to find Ponyboy and they took him back to that house and then Rick killed him before I could stop him? I couldn't bear that thought. No way that man was getting anywhere near my little brother ever again. I thought again of what he'd done…about cigarette burns and how he'd starved the kids in that house and beatings and the fact that my little brother hadn't felt safe since stepping foot in that house.

Pony hadn't called again, and it was killing me. Soda too. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to get him to talk more about that foster home and find out if he was okay. Then again, I knew he wasn't. But I still needed to hear him talking. I wanted to know if he was okay on money and if he'd found a way to earn some, wherever he was. I hated the thought of him getting a job so young…of having to work just so he'd have enough to eat. I hated that he might not get back in time to go to school. Had he finished last semester? I wasn't sure…I hadn't asked. I hadn't asked him much of anything...I hadn't had the chance. At the time, I'd just been desperate to know if he was okay.

I had called our old social worker over and over for the last few months, but never was able to reach her. The only number I had was for our new lady, and I figured it was useless to call her. I didn't understand why we'd gotten a new social worker. The other lady had been nice enough and we'd been careful to follow all of the rules…that is, until Pony got caught up in all this crap. They'd nearly killed him and _he'd_ been the one punished for it! Maybe that was why we'd gotten a new social worker. Or maybe she'd retired…without telling us, which seemed unlikely as she'd told us everything else going on in her life, from the accomplishments of her grandson to the work she was having done to her house.

I hated remembering that night. I hated remembering that this was all my fault. My parents had left me with one real job: take care of my brothers. Sodapop, the reckless, funny one that talked constantly and loved Pony over anyone else and would do anything to protect him, and Ponyboy, the quiet one. That was how I'd always thought of him. Quiet. Always with his head in a book...not a bad fighter, and pretty smart, but his head was always in the clouds and that was dangerous, so he needed more looking after. Not to mention that he was so small...even for his age, he seemed so small. And I'd hit him. I was a good head taller than him, and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds, and I'd hit him so hard I'd knocked him against the door. Because he'd smarted off...because my fourteen-year-old little brother had been upset and he'd snapped at me for yelling at our other brother and instead of acting like the adult that I was and his guardian, I'd hit him.

Why hadn't I gone after him? It was the question that went over and over in my mind, from the time I got up to the minute I fell asleep. Sure, he'd been upset and I'd been upset too, but he was my fourteen-year-old little brother and he'd run out of the house at 2 in the morning. I shouldn't have let that happen. I should have followed him…tried to explain myself. Apologize. Our parents had drilled it into my head so many times. 'Darry, watch your brothers. Darry, look out for your brothers. Especially Ponyboy. Always, 'especially Ponyboy.' He's different. He's quieter. He's always got his head in the clouds and his nose in a book. Which was something I'd gotten on him about. A lot...especially after our parents had died. But I'd worried so much...all the time. Money and our friends and my jobs and my little brothers.

I'd been hard on him. Probably too hard on him. I knew that. Soda had sure told me often enough, but I hadn't meant to be. I just wanted him to pay attention! Glory, it wasn't like I'd ever raised kids before, much less two teenagers who'd just lost their parents, especially when I'd lost mine too. I wondered if Pony was the same. Did he still go to the movies? He'd usually bum money off Soda to go when he lived at home, or I'd give him some, or one of the guys. He'd asked before if he could get a part time job, but I'd said absolutely not. No way my baby brother was working part time at fourteen. Bad enough Sodapop had to work so we could pay the bills. After he'd asked that, I'd stopped bugging him about him asking me for money to do stuff and had just given it to him whenever I could. Better that than him trying to get a job, or getting in trouble when Dally convinced him to sneak in.

Had there been anyone to give him money for the movies at that foster home? I doubted it since they hadn't even fed him. I wanted to throw something just thinking about that. The worst part was, he'd gone to a social worker! I can't imagine how bad it must have been for him to get up the courage to take a bus across town and talk to a stranger about someone hurting him. And then she'd driven him back to that place. I hated that man, and if he ever showed his face around me, I'd kill him myself. That was an idea. Get Ponyboy, have him show me where that house was, draw the guy out, and then I could kill him. Easy. Pony would never tell. I'd make sure there were no witnesses. Maybe I'd kill his wife too. She'd let it happen…hell, for all I knew, she'd hurt my brother too.

The phone rang, and I grabbed it before the second ring. I'd just gotten off work and had dropped into the recliner, glad to have the house to myself for a little while. "Hello?" Even I could hear the desperation in my voice, but I didn't care. If it was Ponyboy…

"Hey, Darry. It's Tim." I tried not to sigh in disappointment, but Tim gave a half chuckle. "Expecting someone else?"

"Kind of, yeah…" I admitted, giving in and sighing. "What's up, man?"

"Just wanted to let you know we've been watching the house your brother was living in. They got cops coming and going all the time, and I'm guessing they're friends of Richard's. There's some old hoods too…tough looking guys, but we can take 'em."

"You know cops got guns, right?" I asked, smiling wryly.

"We can find guns, too, man."

"No way, Tim." I was shaking my head, even though he couldn't see it. "I ain't asking you to kill someone for me."

"You didn't ask. Besides, I ain't doing it for you. I like Ponyboy. He's a good kid. Besides, he palled around with my little brother, kept in out of trouble sometimes...other times he got him into more trouble." He laughed a little. "Remember that time I caught 'em playing chicken with a lit cigarette?" I laughed ruefully, shaking my head and wishing I wasn't about to start crying. I'd wanted to beat the crap out of Pony myself, but I hadn't told Mom or Dad...I'd told him I wouldn't as long as he promised not to do it again.

"Yeah, I remember. He had a bruise on his forehead we had to lie to our mom and dad about from where you knocked their heads together."

"Yeah? Bet he never did it again."

"I don't think so." I thought about what those guys had told me…about the cigarette burns…he hadn't done it again, but someone had done it to him. "Do me a favor and don't do anything yet. We're talking to Pony…trying to figure something out."

"How's the kid doing?"

I hesitated. "He…I don't really know." Pony hadn't told me much about himself…hadn't told me much of anything, really. I wondered if that was because he had been pressed for time or because he hadn't wanted to talk about anything. We had so much to talk about. The boys home. The foster home. Lianne. He'd been through so much since the last time I'd seen him.

"Johnny Cade's with him, right?" Tim checked.

"Dal won't admit it, but yeah, I think so."

"Then he'll be fine. He's got a buddy to watch his back, he's far enough away to be safe from that guy, and Dal wouldn't send him to stay with anyone who would hurt him."

"Yeah, you're right." I ran a hand through my hair. I wasn't sure about that, but I had to think he was okay. I had to. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to function.

"I know I am." I snorted. "We'll keep watching him, don't worry about that."

"You see the other kids that live there?"

"Yeah. They come and go. The two guys are onto us, I think. Caught two of my guys walking around the block and asked them if they were looking for the kid. They ain't gonna talk, though. We saw the girl too. According to my guys, she don't pay no attention to them, so we ain't worried about her talking." I hadn't thought too much about the girl. Rita, I think the boys said her name was. That man hurt her worse than he'd hurt Pony…my brother had lived in a house with a rapist. And even though Mark and Tyler had been sure that Richard hadn't done anything like that to my brother…how would they know? He'd said that Pony hadn't slept at the house sometimes. Who knew where Pony had been? Where had my brother been sleeping, if not at the house?

I didn't blame him for trying to find somewhere else to sleep, or for avoiding that house, but what if…no. I didn't want to think about that. It was selfish, but I wanted to think that my little brother had escaped that. I didn't know how to deal with something like that…how to get him through that. I would. I'd figure it out, but glory it would be hard.

The door was thrown open then, the screen slamming shut, and Sodapop froze in his tracks when he saw me on the phone. Two-Bit ran into him from behind, giving him a look and pushing him a little, then froze too when he saw me on the phone. I shook my head, the hopeful, desperate look on Soda's face breaking my heart. "Tim." I mouthed, and my brother deflated, nodding a little and going straight to his room. Two-Bit sighed, watching him go and dropping onto the sofa. "Alright. Thanks, Tim. Let me know if you see anything."

"Will do. See you around, Darrel." And with that, he hung up, leaving me alone with Two-Bit.

"Ran into Soda on my way over. Him and Steve gave me a ride…Steve went home. Said he had stuff to do." Two shrugged. "Tim got any news?"

"Nothing new. They're keeping an eye on that house. Saw the girl and the other two guys. Offered to take care of him for us, but I ain't gonna ask him to do that."

"Don't see why not." Two-Bit mumbled. I shook my head.

"I ain't letting Tim kill someone for me, Two-Bit. No way. What if it got back to me somehow? I'd never see Pony again unless he came to visit me in prison." My friend sighed.

"Yeah, I guess." He glanced at the bedroom door. "Maybe the kid will call again and Soda can talk to him. That might help."

"I want to get him home." I told him, shaking my head. "He belongs here. With us."

"It ain't safe here. Besides, according to the State, he's still supposed to be with his foster family. If he shows up again, they'll send him right back to those people and that man will kill him for real. We gotta prove that guy killed the little girl first, or at least that he's abusing those kids."

"And we can't risk Pony talking to anyone…" I sighed, dropping my head in my hands. "I miss him." I admitted. "Glory, I miss him so much."

"I know." He leaned in. "I miss him, too. We all do. But we'll get him back. He's safe, you know? Dally made sure he was safe. Now Johnny's with him too."

I nodded. I knew Johnny was with him…even if Dally wouldn't admit it. The day Dally had told us everything, our friend had taken off, apologizing like he thought Pony being taken away was he fault. I'd tried to tell him that wasn't true, but he'd been in a hurry to get out of there, and now I knew why. We hadn't seen him since. The next day, Two-Bit and Steve had mentioned he wasn't in school. Worried, Soda and I had walked around, checking the park and the lot, but he wasn't around. He hadn't been at school the next day either, but Dal hadn't been worried. As far as I knew, his parents hadn't said anything. It figured they wouldn't care.

Finally, I'd approached Dal, asking if he had any idea where Johnny was, but he'd just shrugged and told me he was sure our friend was fine. It had come to me then, the only reason Dally wouldn't be worried about Johnny was if he knew where he was, and Johnny had been awful upset about my brother. "He's with Pony." It hadn't been a question, but Dally had just shrugged. "Dal?"

"Johnny's fine. Don't worry about him." I'd given up, then. Dal didn't talk when he didn't want to. Pony had confirmed it, and I felt better now that my little brother wasn't alone. Ponyboy was fifteen…he sounded terrified as it was, and I worried about him being alone with whoever Dal had him living with. I was sure Dally wouldn't send my brother to live with anyone who would hurt him, but wherever Ponyboy was, he was alone after being almost killed by the same man who had abused him for months. I wanted to be with him. I wanted him home with us where I would know for sure that he was safe. But for now, Johnny was with him and I'd have to hope that those two would take care of each other…and that Pony would call again.

It had always seemed to work the other way around...Ponyboy had always seemed to take care of Johnny, speaking up for him when he was too shy and hanging around when he was upset. In rumbles, those two would always team up, since they were both small, and I hoped that Pony was letting Johnny look out for him.

"I think you ought to call that police officer," Two-Bit's quiet suggestion pulled me out of my thoughts, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in..

"And tell him what? That I know Ponyboy is alive?"

"No. That you think that guy was hurting him. At least then they might start looking into him…maybe get those other kids to talk."

He wasn't wrong. I'd gone back and forth about calling that police officer, especially after I hadn't been able to reach our old social worker, and I'd given up calling the new one. "What if he doesn't believe me?"

"He seemed like a good guy. It can't hurt to try. Besides, you won't be telling him anything about Pony."

Soda came out of the bedroom, nodding briefly to me, then heading into the kitchen where I heard him open the fridge. "Come here for a sec, kiddo!" I called, and he joined us in the living room, running a hand through his hair. "You alright?"

"Yeah. What's going on?" He asked, dropping onto the sofa.

I didn't push it. Instead, I decided to ask his opinion. "Two thinks I ought to call that cop…Officer Charlton, and tell him that Richard's abusing the kids they take in." Sodapop nodded slowly, glancing over at Two.

"If they decide he's a threat to those kids, they might put him in jail, then it might be safer for Pony to come home," he reasoned. It was what we'd discussed before, but actually starting the process…risking that guy and his friends really going after Pony and the rest of us…I didn't know if I was ready to risk it.

"Yeah." I nodded. "What do you think?" He was Pony's big brother too…he'd be eighteen in less than a year. I figured he ought to have some input, especially since this was my fault.

He looked at me for a long time, then glanced over at Two-Bit who sat quietly, watching us both. "I think you ought to call the cop. At least get him to look into that guy. Even if we can't get Pony back right away…those guys and that girl…they shouldn't have to live with that guy. I reached out, dropping a hand on his knee.

"We're gonna get him back, Sodapop." He managed a smile, nodding. Leaning back, I grabbed the phone, pulling out the cop's business card from my pocket and dialing the number.

 ** _Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! :)_**


	17. Killing Time

**Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. I'm sorry for the wait...I've been fighting sickness. :) Hope you enjoy the chapter.**

 _ **Killing Time**_

Pony was worse than I'd first thought. He was like me...like how I was after I got beat up by those socs. Or any time my old man would hit me. He made himself small, shrinking away from people any time they'd get close. Even me. He'd offered to let me take the couch. He'd given me more food, even when he was hungry. I mean, he'd never been selfish before, but now he was beaten down and scared. Heck, it wasn't until we'd gotten to that grocery store that he'd really seemed like his old self, and that had been when that girl had talked to him, apparently recognizing him. She'd been real nice, convincing her dad to hire us, and whatever kind of job it was, it would at least pay for food.

Dally had asked me if Pony was okay. I didn't think he was. Not at all. I didn't know exactly what Pony had been through, but he was scared to death of his own shadow now. He cringed away from people and he wouldn't look me in the eye and he wasn't the same guy I knew before. He was older...but not in a good way.

Back in the apartment, we sat on the sofa, him staring at the wall, apparently lost in his own mind. He'd always been kind of like that, but it was worse now. He still wore a long sleeved shirt, arms crossed across his chest, leaning back against the sofa. He was too skinny...it was hard to tell with the long sleeve shirts he was wearing, but his jeans were practically hanging off of him, his face thinner and haggard. He kind of reminded me of Dally, sitting like that, after Dal would get out of jail or something. Cold and far away.

The scar was the worst. I did my best never to look at it for too long, but it was worse than mine. It went from his temple down to his chin, the cut scabbed over and the skin red. He was lucky it had missed his eye. I'd started shaving a few months ago, when Dally had ribbed me about growing a beard, but Pony was still smooth-faced. Despite that, the scar made him look tough, as long as you didn't look into his eyes. Beside me on the sofa, he was staring listlessly down at his hands. I reached out and touched his back, looking at him closely. I wanted to get a look at his arms...it was kind of a morbid curiosity that led me to wonder what they looked like. My old man had never done anything like that to me. Even he had limits, apparently.

"We got a job." I reminded him quietly, and he grinned a little.

"Yeah."

"We start Monday." He smiled a little bigger, nodding. I pat his back, pulling myself to my feet. "I'm gonna make chicken to celebrate," I told him. He started to stand, but I pushed him back. "You don't look so good, Pone. Rest for a bit." He didn't argue, which worried me even more. Still, I left him in the living room, grabbing the pack of chicken out of the freezer. I figured we might as well make all of it, and if James wanted some, well, it wouldn't hurt to endear ourselves to him a little.

I preheated the oven, glad I'd watched Darry cook it so many times. It was a good thing their parents had taught them to cook, and in turn, they'd shown the rest of us a few things. I could have gone for one of Sodapop's icebox cakes...or some colorful food. It always made Pony laugh when Soda would slip food coloring into whatever they were making. Darry would roll his eyes, but he'd always laugh a little too, and the rest of us would just eat it, knowing that the color didn't change the fact that we could always count on free food at the Curtis's house.

I glanced into the living room after I'd finished prepping, and all there was left to do was wait for the oven to heat up. Ponyboy was still on the couch, and on his lap was a big notebook he like the ones he used to draw in, the light next to him on the table switched on and lighting up the paper. Joining him once more on the sofa and shoving my hands in my pockets, I grinned a little. "Whatcha drawing?" I asked, leaning back and peeking at the notebook. He never minded me seeing what he drew, even though it was a different story with Two-Bit, who'd pretend he was drawing naked girls or something and tease him. On the paper was a picture of a girl...a pretty good one. She was leaning on a porch rail, a cigarette between two fingers, her lips turned up just a bit in a smirk. "She's

On the paper was a picture of a girl...a pretty good one. She was leaning on a porch rail, a cigarette between two fingers, her lips turned up just a bit in a smirk. "She's pretty." I told him without thinking, then felt my heart drop at the look on his face. His eyes were wet, his jaw clenched, and he nodded, looking away from the paper. "Is it her? Lianne?" He nodded again.

Lifting an arm, I put it around his shoulders, squeezing, and his head dropped back against the wall, his breath escaping in a shaky sigh. "What's going on back home?" He asked suddenly, wiping at his eyes and shutting the notebook, the pretty dead girl disappearing under the thick cover. "How's everybody?"

I forced myself to move past the girl on the paper. Whenever he was ready to talk more about that, he would, but he had been away from home for almost a year, so I did my best to fill him in. "Uh...Darry's been working more. He's always on the phone with the State, but he ain't really getting anywhere with 'em. He was saving up to hire a lawyer for when you all had your court case. And Sodapop's...well, he's pretty upset. Won't do much. Just goes to work and comes home...cleans the house in case a social worker comes by. That new lady hasn't been by since they took you." He stared down at his lap, looking guilty, but I didn't want him to feel bad about it. "He misses you a lot, that's all. Him and Steve hang out at your place. Dal's...well, he's the same as always. You saw him. But uh...he's been off by himself more. I think he misses you too."

"What about Two-Bit?"

I hesitated but figured he might as well know. "He's been drinking a lot. Laying around...he flunked again. He'll have to do the whole year over. He could have done summer school but he wouldn't do it."

"Yeah…"

I changed the subject a little, not wanting him to feel guilty. I knew it wasn't his fault how Two-Bit chose to react to him disappearing, but there was no way to tell Pony that. Besides, I didn't know much about what he'd been up to this last year. "What was your new school like? Any socs bug ya?"

He seemed to collect himself, clearing his throat. "Uh...not really. The boys home had the school on site so, uh...it was fine. Quiet. No socs, really. A couple, but no one bothered them. They didn't want to be there any more than the rest of us. And then, at the foster place...the teachers were fine. No socs or anything...no greasers either. Just...people." He paused, and I almost said that sounded nice. Of course, it obviously hadn't been, but I figured it had to be better, being in a place with no socs to call you a greaser. "Guess we won't be going back to school in August…"

I grinned. "Yeah, I don't think our aliases are gonna hold up in school."

"Really? Mike and Pat, no last name? I think they're great." I snorted at the half-hearted joke. "What about you? Were socs bugging you or anything? Cause of Bob?" I knew he just didn't want to talk about himself, but I went along with it.

"Nah. Bob's back in school, but the greasers in town were all pretty upset cause of what happened. Then they took you and it got worse. There was a rumble and we beat em, so they've backed off some. Steve and Two-Bit keep an eye out at school, but nothing really's happened. Did you finish the year?"

"No." He sighed a little, rubbing at his eyes again. "I missed the last week…we were taking our finals. You?"

"Yeah. One more year and I'll be done."

"Guess I skipped a grade for nothing."

"Maybe when this is all over you can take your finals or something…" He shrugged, running his hand through his hair and looking awful. I wanted to ask if he was sick but I doubted he'd tell the truth. I went with the vague 'You feeling okay?' instead.

"Yeah. Just tired."

"Didn't you sleep last night?" The couch was fine, but not that great for sleeping. Plus the city was noisy at night. Then again, maybe he had nightmares, not that he'd woken me.

"Some." He shrugged again. Before I could say anything else, the front door was thrown open. Pony went real stiff, his whole body tensing, but he relaxed when James stepped into the room, looking between us with his eyebrows raised.

"Hey kids." He greeted, nodding as he shut the door behind him.

"Hey." Pony pushed his hair back and sat up a little. "We're making chicken if you want some." James nodded again, glancing at me and back at Ponyboy, then strolled past us.

"Call me when it's done." He yelled over his shoulder, shutting his bedroom door, and not for the first time I wondered why he didn't want us in there. Maybe it was a privacy thing. I mean, Darry never said it outright, but no one ever went in his room. Maybe it was like that. Or maybe he had something in there he didn't want us to see…like drugs or something. It didn't matter, I guessed.

James ate with us, all three of us crowded in the living room with him on the floor and Pony and me on the couch. Dinner was pretty quiet, and right after he was finished eating, James took off, leaving the two of us alone. "Wonder where he's off to." I asked as the door slammed behind him.

"No idea." Pony grinned. "I figured I'd better not ask."

"Probably a good idea. Whatever it is, we'd probably be better off staying out of it. We're in enough trouble." For a while, we were quiet, just sitting in the living room, until Pony grabbed our dishes and took them to the kitchen. "Wonder why he doesn't have a TV or anything?"

"Maybe he can't afford it." Pony suggested, scrubbing James's plate.

"Yeah, maybe. No TV, no radio. What does he do all day?"

"Thought we decided we shouldn't ask." I snorted, glad he was feeling well enough to kid around. I was curious, though, about our roommate. Or rather, the guy that paid for the place where we were living. If he was doing something illegal, would we get in trouble too? We'd just have to hope he didn't get caught.

On Saturday, we headed to the library after sleeping in. Pony slept longer than me, but I didn't care. He wasn't looking too good, so I left him alone until almost noon when I finally shook him awake. "Pony, you sure you're alright?" I asked, a hand on his shoulder. He blinked at me, bleary as he rubbed his eyes, and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just couldn't get to sleep last night." I left it alone, helping him sit up, and we both got dressed and headed toward the library. We didn't exactly have anywhere else to go on a Saturday, but since we couldn't take the books home, Pony suggested we hang out for an hour or so for something to do. I went along with it no problem, figuring we could stop somewhere on the way back to get some cards or something.

He found a book right off and turned to a page in the middle, so he must have been reading it for a while. I looked around on the shelves for a while, finally choosing a book that Pony and I had seen the movie of a while ago. I dropped into a chair beside him, trying to focus on my own book, but every once in a while I glanced up at him, worried. His eyes were drooping as he stared at the book, and not once did I see him turn a page. I didn't want to ask if he was okay again, though.

One of the librarians, an older lady with glasses, kept wandering over, her eyes on me and Pony. I wondered if she thought we were gonna cause trouble or something since we looked kind of rough, but she just smiled a little when she met my eye. I figured maybe she had seen Pony here before. I managed to read a page or two, but I couldn't keep my head on the book. I just kept thinking that Pony didn't look too good and I hoped he wasn't getting sick or anything. I guessed I could have called Dally or maybe even Darry but I didn't want to worry them in case it was nothing. Darry would really freak out and I had no idea what Dally could do.

We spent a few hours at the library, me trying to read and Pony nodding off in his chair before I finally stood and asked if he wanted to go get some food. I was sick of reading and my butt was numb from the chair, even though Pony looked perfectly comfortable in his. He shrugged, climbing to his feet and putting the book back on the shelf where he'd found it. "Guess we can't get library cards." I put my own book back on the table by where we'd been sitting.

"Not without ID's or a parent or guardian." That figured.

"Guess it's somewhere for us to hang out, anyway."

"Yeah. I came here a couple of times…been reading that book for a while. Yours any good?"

"Yeah. _Gone with the Wind_. We saw it at the movies, remember?" He nodded.

"Yeah, I remember." His eyes were kind of sad when he said it, looking far away like he was remembering back when we could go to the movies together and he was home with his family again. I jerked my head, leading him out of the movie house and to a burger joint. I ordered us burgers and fries, then milkshakes. Pony picked at his food but finished the milkshake, which was good. Once more, I didn't let myself ask if he was feeling all right, just drank my own milkshake.

"Wanna sneak into a movie or something?" I suggested, and that pulled a grin out of him. He nodded, and led me to a movie house where we snuck in the back, dropping into chairs and watching some beach flick that wasn't too bad and killed almost two hours. The place was almost full, so it wasn't so hard to sneak in. Ponyboy seemed to be enjoying it, and I realized that I was paying more attention to him than the movie. I couldn't help it. I felt like I was responsible for watching out for him now…for Darry and Soda, but for him too. He was my best buddy and I wanted him to be okay.

After the movie was over, we started walking back to the apartment, stopping in at a convenience store where I grabbed a pack of cards and a couple of chocolate bars. I figured he might eat those, since him and his brothers were nuts about chocolate. Sodapop made the best chocolate cake that they let us all eat for breakfast, and Darry was okay with it, even though their parents hadn't let them, since he loved chocolate too. Or maybe he just hadnt wanted to tell his brothers 'no' so much after their parents had died, and it didn't hurt nothing, them eating cake for breakfast. I hoped chocolate didn't make him sad or think of his brothers even more…I just wanted to cheer him up.

After I'd bought the stuff, we headed back to the apartment that I was already starting to think of as home. Once we got there, we dropped onto the floor and I pulled out the deck of cards. "Wanna play?" I asked, holding them up. He nodded, even though he didn't seem too enthusiastic. He looked tired…even though he'd slept in. I hoped he'd be okay working on Monday. I figured we'd be doing some physical work, so I hoped he wasn't getting sick.

We played war, then rummy, until the door was thrown open and James came in. Apparently, that was just how he opened his front door...with force. He lifted an eyebrow, staring at us for a minute, then dropped onto the floor beside us. "Hey kids. Whatcha playing?"

"Rummy." I told him. "Wanna play?" I didn't expect him to say yes, but he nodded.

"Yeah. Deal me in." I grinned, meeting Pony's eyes, and he pushed his cards over for me to shuffle.

"Where you been?" Pony wondered, and I was surprised he was brave enough to ask.

"None of your business, kid." James told him, but not mean, more dry and amused like Dally.

We played for a few hours, James beating us almost every time, but Pony did manage to win one round, and I won two. "Not bad, kids. Dal teach you to play?"

I nodded, but Pony hesitated, dropping his eyes to his cards. "Nah…my big brother." Sodapop had taught him to play, and to cheat too. Pony hadn't cheated tonight, though. He rarely did. Sodapop was the best at it anyway.

"Well, next time we'll play for some money and see what your brother taught ya." He stood, knocking Pony on the back of the head. It was almost nice…like he liked Pony and me. He grinned at me too, nodding and heading to his bedroom. "Night, kids."

"Night!" I called, and Pony echoed me, waving as James disappeared into his room. We played for another hour until Pony was nodding off, and finally climbed back onto the couch. I dropped into my nest of blankets on the floor, finally letting myself ask the question I'd been holding back all day. "Pony, you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah…"

"You're acting kind of…I don't know…like you're getting sick."

"I'm just tired."

"Yeah?"

He sighed in the dark. "Yeah…even though I slept late, I still feel tired all the time."

"Think you might be getting sick?"

"I hope not. We got work on Monday." He sounded like he was smiling but I felt like he was worried too.

"Yeah…maybe we ought to just sleep in tomorrow. I know you wanted to go to church…"

"Sure. Maybe that'll work. I'll take some aspirin and I'll be fine. Don't worry about it, Johnny."

"Alright. I'll go out and get some aspirin tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Sure thing, Pone." He was quiet for a minute, and I thought he'd gone to sleep, but he spoke up again after a minute. "

"I mean…thanks for being here." I grinned in the dark.

"Of course. I ain't going anywhere, man, so get used to it."

 **Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	18. Road Trip

_Road Trip_

I didn't think it was possible to miss my little brother more than I had before. I'd thought that I'd sort of maxed it out. At First, when they'd taken him, it had been awful, and I hadn't known how I would get through the days. Every single night I'd started bawling in our room, holding onto a pillow and burying my face in it, trying not to wake Darry. All this was hard enough on him...he needed his sleep, not to be waking up every night at 2 in the morning to sit with me like I was a baby or something. Besides, he couldn't do anything. I needed my little brother back. I didn't know how to function without him…he'd always been there, since I was two years old and Mom and Dad had brought him home from the hospital. We had a picture of me asleep on the floor next to his crib, Darry beside me, leaning against the wall as he too slept, both of us guarding our new little brother, and another of the three of us on the sofa, all holding one another as we grinned and posed. Nothing much had changed even if we were all a little taller. Darry and I still did our best to look out for him, and boy did he need looking after, surely more than I ever had. But as much as he needed us, we needed him. We still all needed each other, no matter how old we got! But they'd taken him away and it hurt so much I couldn't hardly breathe.

Over the months after they'd taken him, the pain had dulled a little, spiking when he'd called and I'd been reminded that he wasn't happy, wherever he was, and that he missed us as much as I missed him. I mean, I'd known he would. I'd known that he wouldn't actually be happy away from us in a boy's home or some stranger's house. But to hear his tearful, scared voice on the phone actually telling me that he wasn't happy...that he was miserable and wanted to come home, had hurt even more. Then, when I'd thought he was dead…when that officer had told us they'd found that poor girl's body…then my little brother's bloody jacket…I'd felt like I was having a heart attack, my chest squeezing so hard I couldn't breathe. I didn't think I could survive pain like that. Mom and Dad had been hard…I'd thought that was the worst pain I could feel, but this had been worse. Ponyboy was my little brother and my best friend and probably the most important person in the world to me along with Darry. How was I supposed to survive without him?

Then Dally had explained and for a minute, all I could see was red. Dally had hidden him from us! He'd taken my baby brother away from me! Of course, that wasn't true…it hadn't been like that. Dally had saved Ponyboy's life, and I appreciated it, but glory it hurt to live without him, not even knowing where he was or if he was okay. I mean...he was probably okay. I trusted Dally, even after he'd hidden my brother. He wouldn't send let Ponyboy somewhere where he could be hurt. Even if he hadn't liked Ponyboy, he knew that Darry and I would kill him if he let someone hurt our little brother. But Pony was a runaway now, and sometimes runaways disappeared. I thought of Lianne and shuddered. I couldn't get those pictures out of my head. What if that happened to Ponyboy somewhere...he was alone and he didn't have me and Darry and the gang to watch his back and every night I jerked awake from dreams where it was my baby brother, not that poor girl, in the makeshift grave.

Pony hadn't called, not since talking to Darry, and I was dying to talk to him. I was still kind of mad at Darry for not waking me, even though I knew that I'd talked to Pony three times since he'd been taken away and that had been Darry's first chance to talk to him at all. I knew Darry missed him something awful, and that he still blamed himself for everything. I kind of blamed him too, even though I didn't want to. It wasn't fair of me to blame this all on him. It had been the socs who'd gone after Pony and Johnny, and the State who'd taken him away. But I couldn't help remembering that he'd hit him. He'd let him run off after he'd lost his temper and if he could have just calmed down and talked to Pony instead of yelling and going off on him and then me, then we might not be in this situation. I shoved that thought away. Blaming Darry wouldn't make any of this better.

The Monday after Pony called the house and talked to Darry, who hadn't woken me up, Dally agreed to drive me to the bar where they'd found the girl's body. Well, he'd agreed after I'd called and pestered him about it for a while. I was about to go to Buck's to pester him some more when he'd given in. "Don't know what you want to go there for." He'd growled on the phone after plenty of pestering, and I'd grinned, knowing I'd worn him down.

"He probably hung out there a lot. Maybe someone will remember him." To be honest, I wanted to know why my little brother spent so much time at a bar. He didn't really drink much, or even show an interest in it. I mean, he was too young to drink and Darry didn't let him much, but even when he was allowed, he'd sip at a beer and leave it at that. I didn't care for beer much and never really drank, except for his birthday, and Darry only drank a beer every once in a while in the evenings or before a rumble, so I guess it kind of ran in our family. Darry would skin him if he ever caught him drunk, but it hadn't been something we'd really have to worry about. Maybe that had changed…maybe he drank because of how that man had treated him. Or maybe he was just trying to find a place to hide. Either way, I needed to know. I hadn't seen him or talked to him in so long…I was dying to talk to him…to feel closer to him again, and going to the last place he'd been seen might do that.

I was on my way out the door when I nearly ran into Steve heading up the driveway, his arms crossed as he caught me and I tried not to look guilty. There was nothing to be guilty about. Sure, Darry wouldn't be happy, but he wouldn't find out. Dal wouldn't tell. But I knew Steve would worry, and he might try to talk me out of it. I wasn't working that day, and since Steve was out of school for the summer, I'd figured he'd be at the station. Apparently not. He blocked my way, crossing his arms and leaning in the doorway while I fought not to shove him out of the way.

"Where you headed, Sodapop?" He asked, looking worried, apparently suspicious.

"Dally's gonna drive me to that bar." I told him, figuring he wouldn't let it go until I gave in and told him the truth.

"That bar?" He repeated, looking dubious. I couldn't really blame him…I didn't usually go to bars, not without him anyway, and not in the morning.

"The one where they found that girl…Pony's foster sister." I explained, anticipating his reaction. Steve went kind of pale then, shaking his head and looking at me like he felt sorry for me. He'd been looking at me like that a lot lately, and I felt my hackles rise. I didn't want him to feel sorry for me. I wanted him to _help_ me, or at least get out of my way.

"Sodapop, are you sure…"

"I have to." I told him sharply, fighting the heat in my eyes. I needed to do this, but I didn't have to start bawling about it. "So yeah, I'm sure." He nodded, jaw kind of tight, then gestured for me to go ahead. I stepped past him, then turned and followed me. I glanced back, frowning and stopping in my tracks. "What are you doing?

"I'm coming with you, man." He told me, dropping a hand on my shoulder. I shook my head, feeling tired.

"You don't have to…"

"I'm coming with you." He told me again, his voice firm, so I shrugged. If he wanted to come, I wasn't gonna try and stop him. It might be good to have him along. Together we met Dally in town and climbed into the car he had borrowed from Buck, me in the passenger seat and Steve in the back.

"You didn't tell me you were bringing Steve." Dally muttered, glancing back at our buddy who rolled his eyes behind me. I grinned back at him a little.

"I didn't know." Dally hummed but didn't complain.

"I don't really know where this place is exactly, but they said it was by the high school, so I figured we could find it." We had to find it. I'd walk around that city all day if I had to.

We drove for what felt like forever until we finally reached the town where they'd hidden my little brother. It didn't look too different from our town, and Dally turned down a side street, finally slowing down in front of one of the houses. "That's where he was living." Dally told me quietly, pointing to the white house with a covered porch and crumbling front steps. The lawn needed to be mowed, and all the blinds were drawn, making me wonder if anyone was home. I thought about knocking on the door, seeing if the guy was home, but if Darry ever found out I'd done something stupid like that, he'd kill me.

We were just about to drive off when the front door opened and a girl stepped out. She was tall, with ringlets of blond hair and a black eye she hadn't bothered trying to cover with makeup. There was a book in her hand and she leaned on the railing with it, glancing up but not seeing us. She kind of reminded me of Sandy, and that thought hurt. After a second, she brought a hand up to her jaw, flinching a little, and I wondered if that man wasn't home after all. There was another girl that lived in that house…this must be her. I remembered what those guys had said the man was doing to her, and felt my ears get hot as I glared at my feet. We needed to help her. I mean, mostly I just wanted Pony back, but there was no way that guy should be allowed to do that to a girl.

I glanced back up, about to ask Dally why we were still there, and her eyes locked on mine. For a second, they went wide, her mouth opening a little as she seemed to draw back. Then they narrowed, her face almost angry as she grabbed her book, stalking back into the house and slamming the door behind her. Startled, I turned to Dally who had been watching her as closely as I had been. "What gives?" Steve asked from the back seat, leaning in until his head was between us. I shrugged.

"Let's just find the bar." I mumbled, crossing my arms and looking away from the house where my brother had been tortured. Glory I missed him. I missed him so much. I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced back at Steve with a half smile, trying to ignore the memory of the girl who'd been tortured right along with my brother. Did she know who we were somehow? Did she know her house was being watched? There was no way to find that out without asking her, and I doubted she'd want to talk to a couple of strange greasers from out of town.

The bar wasn't too hard to find. We didn't even have to ask directions. We found it on the way to the high school, turning into the parking lot and parking in the back. It was about three in the afternoon, so no one was really there. We all sat in the car together, staring at the old building for a while before I finally climbed out, leaving the door open so Steve could follow, and the other two jumped up after me, hurrying to follow. They walked along side me, hurrying to catch up, and we all stepped into the bar together, the door creaking shut behind us.

It was kind of a rough looking place, with pool tables in the back and a guy washing glasses behind the bar. The bartender was a big guy, big like Darry with thick arms and broad shoulders like a football player, probably around thirty. He glanced up when we entered, and we all jumped when the glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor. He was staring at me, though, eyes wide, leaning in like he was trying to get a better look at me.

"You uh…you okay, man?" Steve asked as we all approached the bar hesitantly.

"Yeah…uh…" He was still staring at me, and it hit me then.

"You know my brother." I told him, my voice eager as I leaned against the bar, and he nodded.

"Yeah…" He nodded, laughing incredulously. "He must have been. Shoot, he looked just like you." I had to smile then. Pony looked like me. He must have changed some then…that thought made my heard clench a little. I missed him so much…I'd missed watching him grow up for an entire year! "Hair was a little different…more red in it, but yeah." He grabbed a broom from the doorway and started sweeping up the glass, and I didn't miss the fact that he was talking about my little brother in the past tense. "I guess that's why you came by." He softened a little, bending to sweep the glass into a dustpan and emptied it into the trash. Steve took a seat beside me while Dally remained standing.

I nodded. "Yeah, it is. He uh…used to hang out here. Right?"

"Sure did." He nodded, struggling to meet my eyes. "I heard what happened to him and that little girl. I'm sorry about your loss, man. He was a good kid." I swallowed hard, not about to start crying. My brother was okay. He wasn't dead. Instead of correcting him, I just nodded.

"Thanks." He leaned on the bar; apparently waiting for me to ask whatever I wanted to know. "He was only fifteen," I told him instead.

"Yeah, I figured he was around there."

"What was he doing, hanging around a bar?" He sighed, grabbing another glass and starting to wipe it down.

"Kid showed up a few months ago…January or February probably. It was cold out and he came in around eight, took a seat in the back. I usually run the kids off but he looked like he was running from something. When I got closer, I saw he had a black eye, and he was holding his arm like he was hurt. I just let him be, and he left before midnight, but he came in the next night too. He'd come in about three times a week for a month, then he was coming almost every night, always out before midnight, never asking for anything to drink." He paused, eyes far away as he remembered. "Later he'd start bringing a book and he'd read in the back of the bar. Then, when it got warmer, he'd sit by the back door and read. I'd give him a coke sometimes. Then…a few weeks ago…" He shook his head. "I didn't even know the kid's name until then. Ponyboy Curtis. Never heard that one before." I had to smile.

"Our dad was an original guy. I'm Sodapop." He snorted, shaking the hand I held out.

"Dean." He introduced himself. "What about you two? More brothers?"

"Nah. Pony and I got an older brother, but he's just named after our dad. We got the tuff names. These guys are our buddies." He hummed in understanding, grinning a little.

"I'm sorry about your little brother, Sodapop. I didn't know he was with a foster family until he was on the news with that girl, Lianne."

"Yeah. It…it's been almost a year since I've seen him." I told him softly. He shook his head, then glanced up when the door opened. The two guys walking in ignored us, heading up to the bar and taking seats at the other end from us. He muttered a 'excuse me' then headed over to make their drinks.

Steve nudged me a little. "He can't tell us anything, man. The kid hid out here to get away from that asshole he was living with." I had to agree. He didn't know anything we didn't already suspect.

We started to stand when Dal flagged down the bartender. Dean pushed the drinks toward the two guys and headed over. "Anybody else come here looking for the kid? Ponyboy?" Dally asked, arms crossed. Dean hesitated, glancing over at me.

"Yeah. His foster father brought a couple of guys. They were asking if I'd seen him around. I told him no. Figured if the kid wanted his foster family to know where he hung out, he would have told him. I kind of got the feeling that guy was the one that gave him all those bruises."

"He was." I growled.

"Pony ever come in with anyone else?" Steve wanted to know.

"No. I saw him walk by with that girl sometimes on their way to school, though. And I saw him here the night someone killed that girl and he went missing. I told the cops everything." I sighed. If he'd told the cops everything, he might as well have told Richard everything. Not that he would have known that. But Dally must have read my mind.

"That asshole is friends with a bunch of the cops in this town. If you told them everything, you told him everything."

"That asshole?"

"His foster father." Dally ran a hand through his hair. "The one that was beating the shit out of him."

"Don't foster kids usually have social workers?" Dean asked him, crossing his arms.

"Yeah. The asshole was sleeping with her. Probably still is."

"How exactly do you know this?" I shook my head, dropping a hand on Dally's shoulder.

"Don't matter. We'd better get home. Thanks for talking to us, Dean." I reached out, shaking his hand again, and he squeezed it for a minute.

"Sure thing, guys. Let me know if you want to know anything else." I waved as we headed back out to the car, dropping into the passenger seat and leaning my head back against the headrest.

We were almost home when I finally spoke again. "Thanks for driving us, Dal."

"Don't mention it, man."

"Do you think…" I turned to face him and Steve in the back seat, forcing myslf to get the words out. "Do you think we're going to be able to get this guy?" Dally gave a lazy grin.

"Legally? I don't know. But you'd better believe we're gonna get him." I lifted an eyebrow.

"And if we get caught doing it illegally?"

"We ain't gonna get caught." He assured me. I had to smile a little.

"Let's try to do it legally first, huh? For Darry's sake at least."

"Yeah, alright. We'll give that a try." He told me with a grin, reaching over and punching me in the arm. "Either way, you're getting your kid brother back."

 **Thank you everyone for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	19. Good Cop

**_Thank you so much to all of my reviewers who have stuck with me! I know the updates haven't been quite as frequent...things have been kind of crazy. Regardless, here is the new chapter! I hope you all enjoy._**

 _Good Cop_

I sat across from Officer Charlton in his office, feeling more uncomfortable than I could ever remember feeling…well, maybe since going before a court and getting custody of my little brothers. That had been a nightmare of talking to one social worker after another, bringing in paychecks and bills and trying to prove to every single person I'd met that I could take care of my brothers. That I could be trusted to stick around and hold a job and make sure they were fed and clothed and had a roof over their heads. Soda had stressed about it almost as much as I had. Pony too, I think, even though he'd been a lot quieter about it. He didn't like talking to social workers and he'd usually clam up unless they asked him a direct question. Soda would always sit with him, his hand on our brother's back, and I remember feeling frustrated with him, wishing he'd just tell them that he wanted to stay with me. Looking back, and even I think, at the time, I realized that he was scared to death and grieving for our parents and terrified that any wrong thing he said would lead to them taking him away. Even when I'd taken him to the doctor for those nightmares, he'd asked if we had to tell the social workers what was going on. It wasn't something I'd thought about...Mom and Dad just took us to the doctor when something was really wrong with us. I'd wondered if I'd have to report every little thing to a social worker from then on, and had given some half-answer, trying to assure him I'd take care of it. He hadn't been reassured.

Looking back, and even I think, at the time, I realized that he was scared to death and grieving for our parents and terrified that any wrong thing he said would lead to them taking him away. Even when I'd taken him to the doctor for those nightmares, he'd asked if we had to tell the social workers what was going on. It wasn't something I'd thought about...Mom and Dad just took us to the doctor when something was really wrong with us. I'd wondered if I'd have to report every little thing to a social worker from then on, and had given some half-answer, trying to assure him I'd take care of it. He hadn't been reassured. When we'd gone to court to find out if I could keep them, Pony had been so pale and shaky I'd been scared he was getting sick. Soda had kept an arm around him, his other hand gripping my sleeve like a little kid. And when the judge had told us that we could stay together, they'd both just about started crying. Pony hadn't been any more talkative, though, and I'd spent that day forward trying to prove to social workers that I deserved to _keep_ custody over them

The round-faced cop regarded me quietly from his desk chair, his hands clasped on top of the desk. I'd been the one to call this meeting, so I knew he was probably waiting for me to talk, but I didn't know how to start. I shifted a little in the chair, tugging a little at my sleeves. I had no idea why I'd tried to get dressed up for this meeting. He was a cop, not a judge. Still, I wanted him to know I was serious, and this was the best way I knew how.

I'd called a couple of days ago, asking to meet so I could ask him a few things about my brother's case, and he'd agreed readily enough, telling me that he'd be happy to meet with me the following Monday morning. So I'd worked it out with my boss so I could come in a few hours late. I'd invited Sodapop to come along, but he'd had to work. We were doing our best to save as much money as we could in case we had to get a lawyer, so Soda was working extra and so was I. No way we could both miss a shift, and his boss wasn't as flexible as mine. Steve could have covered, but I guess they were busy or something. Either way, I promised to tell Soda everything when he got home.

"How can I help you, Mr. Curtis?" Officer Charlton asked, leaning in a little. I guess he got tired of waiting for me to talk.

"Um…you can call me Darrel." I invited, obviously stalling and trying to gather up the words I'd say to him.

"Darrel, then. What can I do for you? You said you had some questions about Ponyboy's case?" He asked, his tone gentle and patient. He really was a nice guy for a cop…hell, for anyone. He'd been real good about getting me in early so I could go to work later, and he offered me water and everything before showing me into his office. The receptionist had been nice too, when I was used to the women who worked at desks treating me like dirt 'cause my hair was greasy and even my dress clothes weren't great.

"I, uh…I gotta tell you something about that man…Richard Norton." I blurted, hands in tight fists in my lap.

"Yes?" He seemed cautious, but at least he was willing to listen.

"He was beating on my brother." The cop nodded, cutting me off before I could say anymore.

"Yes, that is what Mr. Winston told us, but we don't have any proof of this." I shook my head, but he went on. "We have spoken to your little brother's teachers, and Ponyboy did come to school with bruises and a black eye more than once, and he did lose weight over the course of the semester, but his teachers also pointed out that he never ate at school, and even when he did buy a lunch, he wouldn't really eat it. Your brother was lethargic in class, never really speaking to other students…they believe his depression over being separated from his family and isolation from other students could have caused this."

"And the bruises?" I asked, fighting to keep the outrage out of my voice. That didn't sound at all like my little brother. It had to have been real bad for him to be acting like that...not eating and acting depressed. Why hadn't he called me? It was a question that ate at me all the time, almost as much as 'Why did I hit him?' or 'Why didn't I run after him?' I would have done something...at least gotten him moved to another place. Gone in and thrown a fit. But I guess I knew the answer. He was scared.

"The teachers believe he was getting into fights after school. He's been seen spending time at a bar nearby…the one where Lianne was found." I had to fight to keep myself from getting mad. This guy didn't know my brother. He didn't know how ridiculous the thought of Ponyboy Curtis, the kid that read poetry for fun and who spent his free time at the library or drawing pictures, going around picking fights was. Especially without some friends around to back him up.

"Richard was the one giving him those bruises, officer. He was beating on my little brother. He beats on all those kids."

The cop shook his head. "There were inquiries with his social worker, but she insisted that there was no abuse going on in the house."

I exploded. There's no other word for it. "That's because he's sleeping with her!" I could have kicked myself. Really, honestly kicked myself. I shouldn't have known that…there was no way for me to know that, but now that I'd said it, I had to go on. This cop was my only chance at getting someone to investigate Richard Norton, and if he wouldn't listen to me, I was out of options. I'd have to risk letting Tim take care of this.

Officer Charlton was sitting up real straight then, staring at me straight on in honest surprise. "Excuse me."

I took a deep breath, dropping my head into my hands for a second. I didn't have a choice. I had to tell him at least some of it. "That man hurt my brother. He beat him and kicked him and…he put out lit cigarettes on his arms. The first time he did it, Pony went to that social worker, cause that's what he knew he was supposed to do. He trusted that lady, and she took him back to Richard's house. Richard told him he'd kill him if he ever tried something like that again, and threatened us too. Him and that social worker are having an affair, so she ain't gonna say nothing. He's pals with all the cops in that town, so they ain't gonna investigate."

"Darrel, do you know where your little brother is?" He sounded almost mad, and I shook my head, my eyes getting hot. He seemed to notice because he leaned back a little, looking worried.

"No. No, I don't know where my baby brother is. He's fifteen and he's been alone for almost a year in some boy's home where we weren't even allowed to call, then with a man that tortured him and now I don't even know where he is." I wanted to slam my fist down on the desk, but I didn't want a cop to think I was aggressive so I just fisted my hands in my lap.

"But you've had contact with Ponyboy? He's alive, and he's spoken to you?" The cop actually looked happy about it, so I nodded. Still, I wasn't about to rat Dally out, so I left him about of it.

"Yeah. He contacted me…called me at home. Told me all this. He's scared to death and he's on the run from this guy. Richard Norton. He beats on those kids, but they're never gonna tell because he's got 'em so scared. Ponyboy…he's only fifteen. That man beat the shit out of him and had him too scared to tell anyone. He couldn't go to the social worker or the cops and he was too afraid to call me, and even if he had, I couldn't have done anything."

"You don't know where your brother is?"

"No." I whispered. "He didn't tell me and I didn't ask. He wouldn't anyway. He's too scared." Officer Charlton nodded, but he still looked troubled.

"And you are sure that it was your little brother you spoke to. Ponyboy Curtis." I almost smiled.

"I'd know my brother's voice anywhere. Yeah, that was him."

"How many times have you spoken to him?"

"Just once. He called Sodapop while he was at the foster home…just said he wanted to come home but Sodat said he sounded scared. I asked the social worker if I could go see him...or meet them somewhere. But she wouldn't even let me call him." I was just grateful that I hadn't told her he'd called us. She would have told Richard and who knew what that man could have done to my brother.

"Well…I am glad to hear that he's alive, at least. That's the first thing. Your little brother is alive." I don't know why he was trying to comfort me, but I sure appreciated it. I smiled, nodding my head even though I already knew.

"Yeah. He's alive."

"I'm assuming he's not in the city." The cop gave me a wry smile and I shook my head.

"I honestly don't know, Officer. I have no idea where he could be." Actually...I did. I mean, I knew where Dally had lived before, but I sure wasn't about to bring that up.

"He and Lianne were attacked, he somehow got away, and has been hiding out this whole time." He looked thoughtful, then turned to me, his expression almost wry. "I suppose you don't know anything about that either?" I gave a half smile.

"No sir. He didn't come to me or Sodapop." He snorted but didn't push it.

"These are serious allegations, Darrel." He told me, getting serious again.

"They aren't the most serious ones I've got, either." He lifted an eyebrow.

"Child abuse. A social worker and a foster parent conspiring to keep a child in an abusive situation. Corruption within a city's police force, also conspiring to keep a child in an abusive situation. Those are pretty serious, Darrel. What else do you want Richard Norton charged with?"

"Murder." I told him, not flinching. If he was going to help, I had to put as many cards as I could on the table. Maybe it wasn't the best strategy, but I never had been much of a chess player. "Richard Norton killed Lianne. He tried to kill Pony too…but Pony got away. They cut him, but he got out of that jacket and ran. Found someone to help him, and disappeared."

Officer Charlton put his chin on top of his folded hands. "I don't suppose you have any proof of this."

"Ponyboy told me."

"Would your brother be willing to testify to the police?"

"The police in that city? No way. They were in on it…there was a whole crowd of guys there, when Richard killed that girl. One was a cop. Besides, he's got them after him. He's scared to death, officer. He ain't gonna come anywhere near here until it's safe." I wasn't just speaking for Pony…as desperately as I wanted him back, I had to make sure it was safe first.

"The other children in the foster home gave no indication that they suspected Richard Norton of murdering Lianne…nor did they say he was abusing them." For a second, my heart dropped. He didn't believe me. "But it's not uncommon for children to lie when they are being abused, especially if those men threatened them." He paused, looking up at me. "Lianne wasn't _just_ murdered behind that bar…did your brother tell you that?"

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. "No…I suspected, but he was still so scared…I think he was in shock after what he saw and didn't want to talk about it." The cop nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. What if he wouldn't help? What if he just washed his hands of us and let Ponyboy become another runaway kid…what if my little brother didn't come back? Desperate, I opened my mouth to beg one more time.

"Look…Officer Charlton…you're pretty much the last chance I got at getting my brother back. In my neighborhood, we don't go to the cops, 'cause they never wanna help us anyway. They think we're a bunch of hoods and JD's. But Pony ain't like that. _We_ aren't like that. Sodapop dropped out of school so he could work full time and help me pay the bills after our parents died. Ponyboy is a good student. He's smart and he loves to write and read and watches movies and always has his head in the clouds. He had nightmares, especially after our parents died, and he'd wake up screaming, so much that Sodapop started sharing a room with him so he wouldn't be alone. They're good kids, and they love each other so much…they're closer than anyone. I did everything I could to get custody of my brothers so we wouldn't have to be separated. Then some rich kids attacked Pony in a park one night because he talked to one of their girlfriends…almost drowned him, and the State took him away and put him in a boy's home. Wouldn't let us see him or talk to him or nothing. Then they put him with Richard Norton."

I took a deep breath, refusing to look up at him. "He's my baby brother, and I love him more than anything. All his life, since I was six, it's been my job to look after him. Make sure he's safe. And now there's nothing I can do. He's alone and scared. He had to see things he shouldn't ever have had to see, and some man hurt him…I couldn't protect him." I finally looked up, ashamed that my eyes were wet and I was gonna start bawling in front of a police officer but it wouldn't matter if he'd help me. I'd do anything. "So I'm begging you. I ain't too proud to beg, Officer. He's my brother and there's nothing I won't do to get him back…to make sure he's safe. Please. Please help us."

The cop's jaw was shut real tight and for a minute, he just stared at me, so much that I thought he was gonna kick me out, tell me there was nothing he could do. Finally, though, he nodded, and I wiped at my eyes before any tears could escape. "Darrel, I'm going to do everything I can to help you, and if it's the last thing I do, we're going to get your little brother back." I felt like I'd just run ten miles for how I sunk back in that chair, boneless. "We have to get someone to testify…Ponyboy would be best, but those other kids are important too. Whoever helped Ponyboy get away. Maybe even a police officer from that city that's not in on it. We can investigate the social worker. Richard. His wife." He was making a list. He wasn't just saying he was going to help Pony…he was actually doing it.

I reached out a hand, and he gripped it tight. "Thank you, Officer Charlton."

"Don't thank me yet, Darrel. I've got a lot of work to do. You and your friends need to lay low for a while, alright? Try to keep Dallas Winston out of trouble." I frowned a little. Did he suspect? "We don't want Richard or any friends he may have coming to pay you a visit. If you have any trouble, here's my card. My home number's on there, so use your discretion."

I practically floated through work, somehow keeping my mind on my job and not falling off the roof when I'd never felt so relieved in my life. I needed to call Sodapop. He'd been so upset lately. We needed some good news, and this cop helping us was the best news we were going to get for a while…well until Pony called. I hoped he called us soon. He'd promised to call sometime during the day so we could both talk to him. I figured he wouldn't call while we were at work because he knew we wouldn't be there…maybe I could ask him to call a couple of times a week. Heck, I'd like it better if he called every day to check in, but I knew he was still scared to call too much. For a kid who didn't use to use his head, he sure was using it now. When I thought about what had brought about that change, I felt guilty all over. Of course he used his head now. He didn't have anyone to watch his back. Well...now he did. Now he had Johnny.

I managed to make it through the day and all the way home, my mind on my brother and the cop and how we were gonna catch this guy. I'd have to make sure the guys, Sodapop included, stayed on our side of town and didn't go hunting for the guy. I'd have to call Tim, too, and let him know about the cop helping us. He'd been great, keeping an eye on things in that town and around that house. One of his buddies had even talked to Mark and Tyler a little. But there had been run-ins with some of Richard's pals and I didn't want things to escalate before Officer Charlton could do some investigating.

When I got home, Sodapop and Steve were playing cards, Steve trying and failing to catch Sodapop cheating. I grinned when Steve turned to me and Soda pulled an card out of his sleeve. "Hey guys." I greeted, hanging my tool belt up by the door and toeing off my shoes. Soda's were in the middle of the living room, as usual, and I stepped carefully around them.

"Dinner's on the stove. We already ate." Soda told me, doing his best to smile. I took a seat across from them in my recliner, leaning in and looking at him real serious, fighting the smile that threatened to take over. "Everything alright?" He asked, wary and trying not to look scared. I hated that my seventeen-year-old brother had to be so scared every time I went to tell him something.

"I went to the police station and talked to that cop today. Officer Charlton." I started.

"Yeah? How'd that go?" He asked, leaning in and putting his cards down. Steve spotted the ace when I did and glared, but didn't say anything. Probably figured this was more important than a card game.

"I told him pretty much everything." I admitted. "Not about Dally. But…that we'd had contact with Pony. He wasn't gonna believe me otherwise." Steve was nodding and Sodapop shrugged a little.

"I figured you might have to."

"He was glad to hear he's okay, and...he's gonna try to investigate Richard."

Soda sighed, smiling in relief. "Good." It wasn't what he meant. He was beyond relief, his eyes closing as he dropped back against the sofa. Steve reached out, clapping him on the shoulder and squeezing. "Good...glory…he's really gonna help us?" He asked, sitting up again and looking at me, practically begging me with his eyes to confirm it.

"Yeah." I reached up, trying to wipe discreetly at my eyes. "Yeah, he's gonna help us." Soda stood, walking over to my recliner and throwing his arms around me. I chuckled, patting his back, and he squeezed me hard while I stared out into our front yard.

"He's gonna help us." My arms went around him tight, and I barely had time to throw the both of us to the floor when the brick came through the window, sending a spray of glass into our living room.

 _ **Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter :) And thank you again to my reviewers. You guys make my day.**_


	20. Nightmares and Phonecalls

**Hey everyone! So I accidently got ahead of myself and posted a chapter out of order! So I'm fixing it. The old chapter 20 with Sodapop's POV iis now chapter 21 and this is the correct chapter 20 from Ponyboy's POV. Sorry about that! Thank you again for all the reviews and for everyone who has read this story. Let me know if you enjoy the chapter! :)**

 _Nightmares and Phonecalls_

It had been a little while since I'd woken up screaming. The first time it had happened, back after our parents had died, I hadn't remembered the dream that had caused it. Soda and Darry had come running, probably thinking it was a burglar or something, and Sodapop had shaken me awake. I'd felt awful since I knew Darry was tired and had work in the morning, so I'd told him I was sorry. He hadn't been mad, though, just worried, asking me if I was sure I was feeling okay and feeling my forehead.

Soda had ended up falling asleep in my room, telling Darry to go back to bed and throwing an arm around me. It had happened several times over the next few weeks, though, and every morning I'd apologized to Darry until he'd taken me to the doctor. He'd never been mad about it, but I'd hated waking him so much when he had to work. It hadn't stopped altogether, but Soda sharing a room had helped.

Although it hadn't been too bad at the boy's home, the asshole had just about killed me the first time I'd woken him up…and every other time. Later, when I stopped sleeping in the room with Mark and Tyler, I hadn't had as many nightmares, but I hadn't exactly been sleeping. They were always worse when I was stressed or worried, so I was honestly kind of surprised that it had taken so long for them to come back. It hadn't happened since I'd come to New York, so I'd kind of thought the problem had gone away.

This time, I remembered the nightmare. I was in that bedroom and he was beating on the door. I was curled up against the wall, wanting to climb out the window or make a break for it, but too scared that if I moved, he'd grab me. And if he caught me, I knew he'd kill me this time. I wanted to yell for Darry. Darry would protect me. Or Sodapop or Dal…Two-Bit or Steve. Any of them. I'd just have to yell. But what if Richard got me first?

The door had been thrown open and I'd started screaming, trying to call for my brothers but not able to form the words, and then someone had been shaking me. I swung, my fist connecting with something, and someone swore, pinning my arms. I screamed louder then, fighting with everything I had, when someone yelled my name. "Pony! Ponyboy, stop!"

I stopped. That was Johnny. My eyes flew open and immediately I found myself staring at a pissed looking James with a bloody nose. I jerked back, reminded all too clearly what it felt like to wake up to someone who was probably going to hit me. "Sorry. I'm sorry." I muttered, trying to pull away. He let go of my arms, rolling his eyes and holding the neck of his t-shirt to his nose, soaking it with blood immediately.

"You got a hell of a right hook kid, even when you're asleep." He told me wryly, wiping his face, and Johnny moved to sit beside me, touching my arm.

"You okay, man?" He asked. I nodded, looking away so he wouldn't see me wiping my eyes. I'm sure he did anyway, but he didn't say anything, and neither did James. Instead, James waited for me to turn around and crossed his arms.

"Kid, you alright?"

"Yeah." I mumbled, nodding and clenching my jaw. My cheeks were hot and I hoped they couldn't see in the dark. "Time is it?" I asked, hoping to distract them

"About four in the morning."

"Sorry." I murmured again. James shrugged, and I was glad he wasn't going to hit me at least.

"Don't worry about it, kid. Go back to bed, you two." He ordered, heading back to his room and leaving me shaking on the sofa.

"What's wrong, Pone?" Johnny asked, putting a hand on my shoulder, and I shook my head, determined not to start crying. I was just tired. That was why I was acting like this. He squeezed my arm a little, sitting down beside me. "Pony?"

"Nothing. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you." He was quiet for a minute, then I guess he nodded or something because he scooted down to the floor and back to his nest of blankets. I couldn't stop shaking, though, and I gripped the blanket in my fists, fighting it. I had been like that some nights when I'd been in that hellhole…it's when it had started. Sure, James hadn't hurt me or nothing, but he hadn't looked happy and who knew what he'd do if I started waking him up on the regular. And I didn't want Johnny to regret coming either.

I missed my brothers. In that moment I missed them as much as I ever had, biting down on my hand and crying into the pillow. I wanted to go home. I wanted Darry and Soda and to know that the guys were there to have my back and I wanted my bed and my clothes and I even wanted Darry to bug me about coming home on time. Heck, he could bug me about anything he wanted…I'd do anything. For a long time, I thought about getting up and going to the payphone. They'd be asleep but they wouldn't be mad if I called. Even at two in the morning their time. I didn't get up though. I was too scared and too tired and, honestly, I felt awful. So I just closed my eyes, hoping I didn't have any more nightmares.

When I woke again, it was light out. I rubbed my eyes, pulling the covers over my head and trying to ignore the headache that started as soon as I opened my eyes. It was…Monday, I realized. The first day of our new job…my first job. Johnny's too, I figured. I wanted to close my eyes again…go back to sleep, but I didn't know what time it was or what time I needed to get up or where Johnny was.

I'd always thought my first job would be at the gas station with Soda. I don't know why…I wasn't great with cars, but Sodapop taught me how to change a tire, and how to mess around with an engine. I could work the counter too. Steve had once said he wouldn't trust me to fill his car up with gas, much less work on it, but Soda had punched him and told me he'd teach me everything I needed to know about cars. It had been Darry, though, who'd taught me how to change the oil in Dad's old truck.

A few weeks after our parents had died, Darry had had a day off…before we started fighting all the time. He'd woken me up early, even though I was off school, and had brought me outside where he'd had his truck jacked up. "What's the matter with it?" I'd asked, rubbing my eyes and wishing I could go back to bed. I'd slept in a lot that first month after we'd lost our parents. I think he was worried. He'd thrown an arm around my shoulder, messing up my already messy hair.

"I gotta change the oil. C'mon." He'd pulled me along, and even though I'd wanted to crawl back under the covers, I'd had a feeling that Darry really wanted to show me something, so I'd nodded, joining him as he lay down on the driveway, both of us laying under the truck as he pointed out the oil pan and showed me how to drain the oil, the bucket a few inches from my face as I hoped the truck didn't fall on us. And after a while, I'd even started having fun, and for a moment I'd forgotten that our mom and dad were gone.

While we'd stood in front of the truck, me holding a funnel while Darry poured in the oil, I'd finally let myself ask the question. "Dad taught you how to change the oil in the truck, right?" I'd asked, my voice barely audible, and he'd frozen beside me, pausing and putting the bottle of oil down to look at me. I'd just stared at the red funnel, my fingers slick and black with grease as I'd done my best to hang on to the piece of plastic and not let it slip.

"Yeah." He'd nodded a little, reaching out and putting a dirty hand on my shoulder. I hadn't wanted to start crying, but I probably had…he'd put his arms around me anyway, rubbing my back and resting his head on mine. "It's gonna be okay, kiddo. I'll teach you." And he hadn't just been talking about the car…anything Dad had taught him and Sodapop that he would have taught me, Darry had shown me.

I lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling and remembering Darry's arms around me, his hand rubbing my back as we'd stood by his truck. I hadn't spent a lot of my time at home thinking about Darry…mostly just avoiding him. But I missed him so much. I missed my big brother…the one who'd picked me up from school when I was a kid and who'd helped me with my homework and who'd made sure nobody messed with me too much, even the guys. I'd never been apart from my family for this long. I pictured them every day, desperate not to forget their faces or their voices…how they'd grin and laugh or yell or swat at me or tickle me…how Darry would come home and hang up his tool belt while Soda just kicked off his shoes in the middle of the living room. None of it.

"Pone? You awake?" Johnny's voice was real quiet and I blinked a few times, turning to look at him.

"Yeah." I mumbled. "Time is it?"

"Almost noon. You feeling okay?" I must have looked pretty bad for him to ask. Or maybe he was talking about the nightmare. Either way, I didn't want to talk about it.

"Sure. I'm alright." I sat up, pushing my hair back and leaning against the sofa. My head was killing me and I was dizzy, but I didn't need him worrying even more. He was already looking at me like I was dying or something, so I pushed myself to my feet, heading to the bathroom, then meeting him in the kitchen when I was done. He scooted a plate of eggs toward me.

"Ain't you gonna eat?" I wondered

"I woke up about an hour ago…already ate. You sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." I yawned, rubbing my eyes. "Just haven't been sleeping real good." Of course, he already knew that, but I didn't want to talk about that. I ate the eggs, or as much as I could. I wasn't really hungry, but I didn't want him to worry. He didn't ask again, just nodded, and I tried not to let on how awful I felt.

"We ain't gotta be at work until seven. What do you wanna do until then?"

I thought about it for a second. The library would be fine, but I figured if we went to the library every day, we'd start to get sick of it, Johnny especially, and I didn't want him to regret coming here. I didn't even want to think about what would happen if he decided to go home. I'd miss him so much…I wouldn't know what to do here by myself now that I was used to having someone with me. "I don't know…what do you wanna do?" I asked. He shrugged. We didn't have TV or a radio to listen to. We didn't have a book to read or friends to hang out with. And I'd thought I'd been bored at home sometimes.

"Maybe we can go catch a movie. Walk around…see if there's anything else to do." It wasn't likely…we'd been walking around the neighborhood for days, and I'd been walking around by myself for a week before he'd showed up, so I knew there wasn't much in this neighborhood to do. Maybe James could introduce us to his friends…or maybe not. We'd met one, and he'd been a jerk. It was possible that he had nicer friends, but I doubted it. There was a theater a few blocks away but there weren't any good films showing. Still, it wasn't like I had any ideas.

"Sure." I shrugged. It couldn't hurt.

He was quiet for a minute, not standing from the couch. "Why don't you call Sodapop first?" He suggested finally. I was kind of surprised. I wanted to call Soda…more than anything…especially after last night. I hadn't talked to him since I'd gotten out of that hellhole. But I was scared too. What if he was upset with me? I hadn't gone to him when I'd been in trouble. I'd lied to him when he'd asked if I was okay…even though he couldn't have done anything. I never lied to him. Not Sodapop. I tried to tell him everything. Even though he could have gotten himself hurt trying to help me, I felt bad for not telling him. Anyway, the longer I'd put off calling him, the longer I could put off telling him the truth. I mean, he wouldn't make me talk or nothing, but I'd feel like I should and I couldn't bear the thought of telling him…none of it. Not about the cigarettes or the belt or the girls. None of it. Even over the phone.

He'd look at me different. They all would. Johnny already did, and so had Dally. I wasn't just Darry and Soda's tag-along kid brother anymore. I was a kid who'd been taken away from his family and put into foster care with a man who beat him. I had the scars to prove it, all up and down my arms and my side and even my face. They would see it as soon as they looked at me. I was a victim. A kid who'd been abused.

"Yeah…okay." I told Johnny, bringing myself back to the present. I was grateful to have him…to have someone around who cared and who knew. He knew how much I missed Sodapop, and how Soda used to sit with me after a nightmare, holding onto me and rubbing my back and promising it would be okay. Heck, he'd been at the house before when it happened. I needed Sodapop and Sodapop took care of me. Everyone knew it.

I reached into my pocket and dug for change, finding a dime and replaced it in my pocket, wondering if I was leaving him alone or if James was around. Maybe he was still asleep in his room. I just hoped he'd been able to get back to sleep and wasn't mad at me. Last thing I needed was to get on the wrong side of the guy letting us stay with him. I mean, he hadn't seemed too mad. Just gruff, like Dally, but not like he was gonna hurt me or anything. Not that Dallas had ever really hurt me, or let anyone else.

"Hey, Pone!" Johnny called before I could shut the door, and I hesitated, leaving the door ajar and waiting. Glory I was dizzy. It came and went, leaving me feeling light headed and sick.

"Yeah?"

"Can, uh…can you ask if my parents are alright…if they're asking about me?" I dropped my eyes, feeling guilty, and he must have known it. Johnny was here because of me. And yeah, his parents sucked. But they were still his parents. I guessed I'd give just about anything to have my parents back.

"Sure. I'll ask."

"Thanks, Pone." I nodded, shutting the door behind me and feeling guilty still. If it weren't for me, he'd still be at home. Then again, his parents beat the crap out of him all the time. Now they couldn't hurt him. Still, it was my fault he was here, worrying about him and wishing they worried about him when he wasn't there.

The payphone I'd used before was just down the road from the apartment, thankfully. I headed down the road, glancing around and looking out for cars or the New York equivalent of socs, not that I'd really seen any. No one was around…well…no one that cared about me or what I was doing, so I pushed the dime into the slot on the payphone, leaning against the glass as I dialed one of the numbers I knew by heart. The streets were pretty busy, guys my age and a little older slouching in their leather jackets despite the heat, and a few girls too, gathering in groups and chatting.

The phone rang a few times, and my heart dropped a little. They should be open, I knew. And they had to answer the phone…right? I was about to give up when the ringing stopped. "DX this is Steve."

Steve. I grinned a little, finding that I really did miss Sodapop's best friend. He'd been real friendly on the phone before, when he'd asked to talk to me after Darry and I had talked a few days ago. He'd been pretty nice before, too…back when I'd called the DX from the boy's home and then from the hellhole. "Hello?" I snapped to attention, realizing that I hadn't said anything, and hoping Steve wouldn't just assume I was a prank caller and hang up. He sounded upset…almost wary. Maybe they'd been getting prank calls. It happened sometimes.

"Um…yeah…hi Steve." I managed lamely, closing my eyes and leaning on the glass door of the pay phone, hoping that would stop the world around me from spinning. "It's Pony. Is Soda around?"

"Pony?" His tone changed then, going from irritated to…well…excited. "Shit, Ponyboy, Soda's gonna be happy to talk to you!"

"Yeah." I told him, smiling like an idiot and too tired to try to come up with a smart remark. "How you been?"

"Since the last time we talked?" He gave an incredulous laugh, then seemed to sober up some, his voice awful serious all of a sudden. "I'm…I'm fine, kid. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright. Got a job." I told him proudly, knowing how he'd react to that. Sure enough, I could hear the amusement in his voice when he answered.

"Really? Who the hell hired you?"

I snorted. "Grocery store. We're gonna be doing stock, putting stuff away…real exciting stuff."

"At least it ain't cars." I rolled my eyes but he was teasing, not being mean, so I didn't care. Heck, I missed him teasing me. "How's Johnny?"

"Fine…asked me to see if his parents were looking for him." Steve sighed then, almost scolding.

"You know they ain't, kid."

"Yeah, I know. Just told him I would ask." He hummed, obviously understanding.

"You sure you guys are okay?" I was surprised at the genuine concern in his voice. "Nobody's bugging you or anything?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Good. Never thought I'd miss you, kid."

"Yeah? I knew you would."

He laughed a little, then broke off. "Here comes Soda. Hang on a sec." I guess he pulled the phone away from his face because when he spoke next, he sounded further away. "Hey, Soda!" He called. I heard my brother's distant reply but couldn't make out the words. "Some guy on the phone…wants to talk to a mechanic."

" _You're_ a mechanic!" I heard Soda snap and fought a laugh.

"I'm busy. Here."

"Ass." After a second the phone changed hands and my brother's voice came on. "This is Soda." He barked, sounding impatient. I wondered if he was stressed about money or work or something else. He was usually pretty cheerful, even at work.

"Soda…that's kind of a weird name." I put just enough doubt in my voice to bug him.

"Look, pal…" He started, and I broke in before he could get real mad.

"I mean, mine's Ponyboy so I can't really talk." He seemed to choke on his words then, and immediately I was teary-eyed too. Out of everyone, I missed him the most. He was my favorite brother…my favorite person. He was the person I could always talk to, who'd always stand up for me. But this time, I hadn't. I hadn't gone to him. I hadn't even tired to contact him since that last time at the asshole's house. My heart ached when I heard his halting voice on the other line, like he couldn't believe it was me.

"Pony?" He asked, and I knew he was probably crying too. I wiped at my eyes, closing them and leaning against the glass of the phone booth.

"Hey, Soda." I murmured, hoping he knew how much I missed him…hoping he could hear it in my voice. 

"Glory, kiddo. Are you okay?" He asked, sniffing a little.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I opened my eyes when I started to get dizzy again. Maybe I _was_ getting sick. I'd thought it was just stress. "How are you doing?" I asked, hoping we could try and make some kind of small talk…pretend things were normal. He laughed a little, not sounding really amused. Just sad.

"I'm better now. It's not fair Darry got to talk to ya before."

"You were asleep." I reminded him with a grin.

"He could have woken me up." He whined, and I had to smile.

"It was early. I told him I'd call back."

"I'm glad you did." He was quiet for a second. "You sure you're okay? You sound tired."

"Yeah, just can't sleep too good. I miss you, Soda."

"I miss you too, honey. More than you know. You guys got enough money? Is Dally's friend treating you okay?"

I thought of James and gave a half smile. "He's alright. And Johnny and I got a job. We're gonna be stock boys at a grocery store."

"Sounds fun." He sounded off though…sad. Worried, maybe.

"I'm sure it won't be too bad…we start tonight."

"Is it close? To where you're staying?"

"Yeah, not too far." I told him, wondering why it mattered. Then again, I guess he didn't want me walking alone. "Besides, Johnny's gonna be with me." He hummed, sounding somewhat relieved.

"Call me after…let me know how it goes." He urged, sounding like my brother again.

"We don't get off until eleven…"

"Don't care. It's your day at your first job. I wanna know how it goes."

"It'll be 9 your time…you and Steve will probably be out somewhere."

"No, we wont." He told me softly, and it sounded like he was crying. "I'll be sitting by the phone until you call." I hated that thought. I hated thinking of Darry and Soda sitting by a phone, waiting for me to call instead of living their lives. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair, I thought, exhaustion creeping into my bones.

"Alright. I'll call. Promise."

"Good. So…any chance you'll tell me where you are?" I shook my head even though he couldn't see, and just that made me dizzy again. I knew if I told him, he'd find a way to get up here, and then James would have him sleeping on the porch. Or even worse, Richard would follow him up here. I wondered briefly if Richard had made any kind of contact with them yet, but was too afraid to ask. It was like people that didn't like talking about the Devil in case he showed up or something…maybe just saying that asshole's name out loud would summon him.

"I better not…Dally told me to keep my mouth shut," I reminded him. I hated it. I wished he didn't have to worry. Or even better, that he could come up here somehow so I could see him. If I could just hug my big brother, everything would be okay.

"Yeah…that's probably for the best." He sighed, and I almost regretted it, but I knew he'd just get us both in trouble if I told him. Soda was my best friend and he my brother and I loved him a lot, but he was also one of the most impulsive people I knew. "I uh…I saw the place you were living at. With that family."

I frowned at that, squeezing the phone a little and feeling my stomach knot up. Soda shouldn't have been there…ever. "How come?" Two greasy guys tried to cross the street in front of the phone booth and jerked back onto the sidewalk when a car whizzed by, blowing its horn. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the noise and how it made my ears ring and my head swim. Soda either didn't hear or ignored it.

"I wanted to talk to that bartender."

"You didn't…you guys didn't talk to…to _him_ , did you?" I asked, the dread turning into a knot in my stomach, hoping he knew who I was talking about. Of course he did.

"Nope. Just that bartender." He told me, his voice cautious and slow.

"Why did you want to talk to him?"

"Just trying to find out if anyone else had seen anything…or knew anything. Darry talked to the cop that told us you were missing. Name's officer Charlton…he's gonna help us, kiddo."

I didn't know how I felt about him talking to the bartender who'd helped me out, but I was glad to hear that the cop was gonna help. Still, I didn't like the idea of them going around playing detective. If Richard found out…it would be bad. "What's he gonna do?"

"They're gonna start looking into that guy…Richard." I flinched when I heard his name said out loud. "Try to prove he killed that girl." My heart clenched and I stared down at the floor of the payphone booth. "Pone?"

"Yeah. Sounds good. I hope he can figure something out."

"Yeah…" Soda was quiet for a minute. "That bartender…he said you used to go there a lot."

"I did." I admitted softly. "Didn't drink or nothing." I didn't want him to think I'd been drinking or getting into trouble. He believed me, thought. Of course he did. He always did.

"That's what he said…he also said you always had black eyes and bruises and looked pretty rough." I had no response to that. It was true, but I didn't want to talk about it. "I know…I mean, I asked if everything was okay on the phone…"

Immediately I was guilty. "Soda…I didn't…"

His voice was immediately gentle and reassuring. "Hey, I ain't mad atcha. I don't blame you for lying. I know you probably don't want to talk about it. But I'm here if you do, okay? If that guy…whatever he did, you can tell me. If you want." I hummed like I agreed, closing my eyes and trying not to think about it. "Can I ask you something?" He asked suddenly, voice soft.

My voice when I answered sounded dead, even to me. "Sure." Didn't mean I would answer. It was bad enough that Soda and Darry knew as much as they did. I couldn't bear the thought of telling them more.

"Those two guys…your foster brothers, they said you didn't sleep at the house a lot of the time."

"That ain't a question." I muttered, my heart speeding up. He sighed a little.

"Where were you sleeping, Pone?"

"Just around." I lied immediately. "There was an empty lot around the corner, or sometimes behind the bar. Lots of places."

"Glory, Pony…"

"I'm fine now, Soda." I reminded him. "Got a place to sleep inside and a job and everything."

"We're gonna get you home as soon as we can, okay honey?"

"I know you will." I did. I had more faith in my brothers than anyone. He must have said something else I didn't catch, the glass of the phone booth cool against my forehead. "What?" I asked when he repeated my name, trying to force my eyes open.

"What's the matter, kiddo?" Of course he knew I wasn't feeling great…he could always tell.

"Just tired…think I might be getting sick." I admitted. I was so tired of lying to him. He deserved at least some of the truth.

"Yeah?" He immediately went from sort of worried to freaked out and I tried to calm him down.

"It's nothing…probably just a cold." He hummed a little, not sounding happy.

"Get some rest, Pone. Be careful, okay?"

"Yeah. I will. Love you, Soda."

I could hear the smile in his voice when he answered. "I love you too, kiddo. So much. I'll talk to you tonight, right?"

"Yeah. I'll call when we get off."

"Good."

We hung up after I promised once more to call him as soon as we got off work, then I headed back to the apartment where Johnny was waiting. He didn't ask about his parents. I suppose he guessed, correctly, that my silence meant they weren't asking for him. "How you feeling, Pone?" He asked instead. I shrugged, sitting down on the sofa while he stood across from me, arms crossed.

"Fine. You wanted to go to the movies?" I asked, changing the subject fast as I could. I didn't want to talk about how I was feeling. I didn't even know myself. It wasn't good, regardless.

"Yeah." He answered slowly, watching me carefully. "How's Soda."

"He's alright…said they found a cop that was gonna help. He's gonna start looking at Richard…see if they can get anything on him."

"Hey, that's good." He dropped onto the sofa beside me, nudging me with his shoulder. "Right?"

"Yeah." I mumbled, dropping my head back against the wall. My head was pounding and every time I closed my eyes, I felt the world spin, but it wasn't much better when they were open. "You wanna go to the movies or not?"

"Sure." He answered slowly. "Yeah, let's go." He stood first, holding out a hand that I took, pulling myself to my feet and doing my best not to sway. He clapped me on the shoulder, giving me a look. "You sure you don't wanna lay down or something? You look kind of sick."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I assured him. No way I was gonna lay around all day worrying Johnny. I gave him the best grin I could. "Bet we can sneak in." He grinned then, nodding, and followed me out the door.

 **Thank you for reading.**


	21. Waiting Up

_******I accidently posted out of order before, so there is a new chapter before this one, Nightmares and Phonecalls, that will clear things up. Sorry about that!******_

 _ **Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I appreciate it so so much! I hope you all enjoy the next chapter. It's a bit early to make up for the wait I left you guys with before. :) Please excuse any typos...it's quite late and I'm sleepy.**_

 _Waiting Up_

Steve was grinning at me from across the store when I hung up the phone, and I couldn't even be mad, especially not when the grin pulled at the cut above his eye, a tiny drop of blood beading up and dripping down his face. He signed in irritation then, brushing it away impatiently. "Steve…" I started, starting to grab a rag, but he flapped his hand at me irritably.

"Shut up, Soda, and get back to work." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. I didn't blame him for being grumpy…and kind of on edge. We both were after what had happened last night.

I'd been so relieved. Darry had found someone to help us. A cop. We hadn't gotten to talk to Two-Bit or Dally about it yet, but Steve had been told everything and he'd been pretty excited too. He had tried to hide it, but I knew he missed Pony just as much as the rest of us. Sure, it had bugged my buddy sometimes when Pony had tagged along, but he took care of Pony just like the rest of us. I'd been excited to tell the others, too, especially Two-Bit. Two had been pretty upset, and this would cheer him up. He'd been drinking too much lately, getting into some fights, which wasn't really like him, at least not without the rest of us to back him.

I'd grabbed my brother, too excited to sit still, and thank goodness I had. Otherwise, that brick might have hit me. Darry's arms had been tight around me, and for a second, all I could think was that we were finally going to get our brother back. The next thing I'd known, he'd thrown me onto the floor, landing on top of me and pushing the air out of my lungs, my head knocking against the floor as I'd seen stars for a second. The sound of the window shattering almost hadn't registered, and neither had Darry's voice until a few seconds later.

"Soda? Sodapop? You okay?" He'd asked, suddenly shaking me, and I'd pushed at his shoulder, head spinning.

"Get off, Dar…you're heavy." I'd groaned. His chuckle had been strained as he'd sat up, taking his weight off of me and resting a hand on my head. I'd grabbed his hand, looking around the room in confusion as I'd sat up slowly. "The hell? What was that?" Instead of answering, he'd turned, stone-faced, to the middle of our living room where a brick sat, surrounded by broken glass, the breeze suddenly coming in through the window. "Dar? What's going on?" I'd asked, the dots not connecting just yet.

"Someone just threw a damn brick through your window." Steve had snarled, answering for him.

"You alright?" Darry had asked me again, keeping a hand on my back as I'd reached up, trying to brush something out of my hair and cutting my hand in the process on some glass.

I'd swore under my breath, shaking my hand and watching blood well up. "I think so, yeah." I'd hit my head kind of hard, but other than that, and a few cuts, I'd been fine. "Steve, you okay?" I'd asked then.

"Yeah, man. A think a piece of glass just got me is all." He'd been bleeding from a cut over his eyebrow, but otherwise had seemed okay. Then he'd stood up, hands clenched as he'd glared out the window into the dark. Before he could take off, Darry had jumped up, grabbing his arm. "We ain't gonna let…" He'd started, but Darry had shaken his head.

"Sit down." My brother had commanded, his voice sharp. After a second, Steve had complied, apparently realizing that Darry wasn't kidding around. "We ain't going after anybody. I'm gonna call that cop and let him know what happened."

"You're gonna call the fuzz?" Steve had sounded both disdainful and somewhat disbelieving, but Darry had tightened his grip on his shoulder.

"Whoever it was, they're probably with that asshole that hurt Pony. And we ain't gonna go getting into it with those people. I ain't gonna risk getting my little brother back, you got me?" He'd snapped, shaking him a little. Glaring a little but not about to argue, Steve had just grumbled a 'yeah.'

After making sure both of us were really alright, Darry had grabbed the first aid kid, putting a band aid on my hand where I'd cut it on the glass in my hair, and forcing one on Steve who had tried to shake him off but who had failed. Darry, knocking him upside the head, had just told him to be still, and Steve had grumbled but had let him clean out the cut on his face.

Pulling out the business card the cop had given him just that day, Darry had called the guy, explaining what had happened and assuring him that, no, none of us had been hurt. It was while he had been on the phone that Two-Bit had shown up. He'd run in the door, apparently having seen the window from the street, and had looked around at us wide-eyed. "What the hell happened?" He'd slurred a little, and Darry had rolled his eyes from where he'd been talking on the phone.

"Someone threw a brick through their window, what does it look like?" Steve had snapped, shoving past him to go into our kitchen. Two had swayed a little, grabbing the wall, and I'd jumped up, getting his arm over my shoulder and leading him to the recliner where he'd dropped.

"You guys okay?"

"We're fine, Two." I'd assured him. "What about you?"

"Fine." He'd waved me off, not convincing me at all considering he'd smelled like hard liquor, but I hadn't wanted to push. It wasn't none of my business how much Two-Bit drank. "You heard from the kid?"

I'd flinched. Now that I'd actually spoken to my little brother, as awful as he'd sounded on the phone, I felt a lot better, but at the time, I'd just shaken my head, and he'd nodded, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.

"I wanna kill him, you know. That guy. Pony's a real good kid. He shouldn't have had to go through something like that." Two-Bit had slurred, shaking his head. "Putting cigarettes out on his arm and beating him half to death…damn I'd like to find that guy." Steve had reached out, kicking Two-Bit, but I'd already headed to my bedroom, head between my knees as I'd tried to erase the images of someone hurting Pony like that…of him going through that alone. I wouldn't have let it happen. If they'd have taken me too, I could have protected him.

"He really okay?" Steve asked, interrupting my thoughts as I wiped down the counter. I decided to be honest.

"I don't think so. I think he's getting sick or something…that's what he said. But I don't know how bad that guy hurt him before he got away. They found his blood all over that jacket…what if he's really hurt?"

"He's with a friend of Dal's, Sodapop. You know Dally…he's plenty mean but he wouldn't put Ponyboy and Johnny with anyone if he thought they wouldn't take care of him."

"It ain't like he can go to the hospital or nothing," I grumbled, wishing I could call him back and demand answers. Or better yet, go and see him. But if I went to see him, I'd never come back. Not without him, and it wasn't safe yet. Besides, that guy knew where we lived. We both knew it had been Richard or, more likely, one of his pal's who'd broken our window.

"Who's going to the hospital?" We both jumped a little at the voice as the bell over the door chimed. Dallas had his hands shoved in his pockets, and Tim Shepherd was with him, his eyebrow rising when he caught sight of the bleeding cut over Steve's eyebrow. I reached out a hand, shaking Tim's.

"Hey, Tim." I greeted, and Steve did the same.

"Happened to you?" Tim asked, almost amused as he nodded toward the cut that Steve wiped at impatiently.

"Someone threw a brick through Darry and Soda's living room window. Piece of glass got me." Steve told them, his voice blunt. Tim had lifted both eyebrows then, and Dal glared like it was Steve's fault.

"The hell?"

"You think it's that guy? Richard?"

"Or a pal of his, yeah. Darry called that cop that said he'd help us." The cop had shown up about a half hour later, taking notes and assuring us he'd file a report. I'd stayed in my bedroom the whole time until Dar had come in, sitting beside me on Pony's bed where I'd been sleeping.

"You sure you're alright, little buddy. You hit your head…you need to go to the doctor?"

"I'm fine." I'd assured him, hating that I was crying.

"Steve said Two-Bit said something stupid." Darry's voice had been dry. "That what's got you upset?"

"Nothing I didn't know." I'd muttered, wiping at my eyes. "I should have been with him." I'd told my brother then, my voice breaking, and his hand had dropped onto my shoulder.

"Sodapop, you can't honestly think this is your fault. All of this is Richard's fault…hell, it's mine too, but not yours."

"It ain't your fault." I'd told him. It had been the first time I'd said it out loud, and he'd rubbed my back.

"Right now, we need to focus on getting him back…on making it safe for him to be here again. Okay? Blaming yourself ain't gonna help." Nodding, I'd sat up, crossing my arms.

"I'm worried about Two-Bit." I'd admitted.

"Yeah. Me too. I'll try to talk to him, alright? When he's sobered up." I don't know if he'd gotten the chance or not, though. Two-Bit had slept on our couch under the window that we'd covered with some cardboard and tape until we could get it fixed, and had still been asleep when I'd left for work that morning and Darry had left to talk to Officer Charlton.

"You heard from the kid?" Tim asked, pulling my thoughts away from the night before, and I grinned a little.

"Yeah, he just called." Tim softened just a little.

"Good. He doing okay?"

I shrugged. "I think he's getting sick. Or maybe all of this is just getting to him."

"Yeah, he ain't really a tough kid, is he?" Tim didn't mean that in a bad way, not really. He liked Pony just fine, and he wasn't wrong. Pony wasn't like a lot of other kids his age that hung out on the streets and got into trouble. He wasn't hard or mean.

"I don't know, man. He seemed pretty tough to me, last time I saw him." I didn't know if Dal was trying to stick up for Pony or if he meant it. Either way, I hated the thought of my kid brother turning mean and hard on the streets because someone had beat it into him. "He said he was sick?"

"Said he _might_ be getting sick." I shrugged, dropping the rag onto the counter and ignoring Tim when he swiped a candy bar. Steve rolled his eyes but didn't call him out or nothing. He'd had our backs enough times, it didn't matter if he took some chocolate or a pack of smokes every once in a while.

"Don't worry about it, Soda. I'm sure he'll be fine. He's probably just stressed out, you know?" Steve knocked me in the shoulder. Darry nodded but didn't look as convinced. I gave him a look, waiting, and he sighed.

"The kid didn't look too good when I, well, when I got him out of town. He'd lost a lot of blood and I don't think he'd been eating much. But the guy I sent him to stay with ain't gonna let nothing happen to him. He'll be fine."

"He said they got jobs." Steve put in, trying to distract me, probably, but it worked. I couldn't help being proud.

"Yeah. Him and Johnny are going to be working in a grocery store." As proud as I was that he was starting his first job, he was only fifteen. He shouldn't have to get a job just so he could have enough money to eat. He should be mowing lawns or something for spending money. Heck, Darry probably wouldn't even want him doing that. He wanted our brother to have enough time for schoolwork, and he'd see a job as something that would take up too much of his time. Plus I knew he hated that I had to work just so we could pay the bills, and I liked my job well enough. Pony would be miserable doing something like this for the rest of his life.

"It'll be fine, Sodapop. We're gonna get Pony home soon, and he can go back to being a pain in my ass." Steve was grinning, so I didn't hit him too hard. Dally snorted.

"I'll call them sometime this week and talk to Johnny or my buddy…see how the kid's really doing. Alright?" I grinned.

"Sure. Thanks, Dal."

"Sure thing." He glanced over at Tim. "I'm gonna head over to your place. Anybody keeping an eye on the house?"

"Darry's talking to that cop, so he might have someone watch the house or at least drive by." Tim didn't look too comfortable with that, but he didn't say nothing. I knew he was more concerned with getting this guy than the cops hanging around our neighborhood. Still, it would make all of us uneasy for a while. "Two-Bit's sleeping off a bender on our couch for whatever that's worth." Dallas snorted.

"Yeah, he's been worse than usual lately. Think's all this is his fault."

I paused, crossing my arms and leaning back against the counter. "Why the hell would he think that?"

"Something about not walking the kids home or something. Hell if I know." Well, I guess that explained the drinking…well, some of it. As much as Darry and I had disapproved, he was always drinking around Ponyboy, even if, as far as I knew, Pony didn't follow in his footsteps. Pony really looked up to him, though, so we'd both worried. Still, Two-Bit always looked out for our brother, so we didn't say much about it. Now, though, he was getting black-out drunk about every weekend and spending most of his time at home or…well, not at our place. Maybe the bar.

"Darry said he was gonna try and talk to him." I put in, running a hand through my hair. "We're gonna need him, especially if that asshole's gonna send people after us."

"I'll send a couple of guys to keep an eye on things. Give me a call if you guys need anything, alright?"

"Sure thing. Thanks, Tim." He nodded, and the two of them headed out, leaving Steve and me to our jobs, which I did my best to focus on.

When the phone rang again around noon, and Steve was the first to grab it. I was about to head out and pump gas for the guy that had just pulled up outside when Steve called me back, handing me the phone and telling me he'd take care of it. At first, when Steve called for me, I'd hoped against hope that it was Pony again…that somehow I was lucky enough to get two calls in one day. I mean, he knew I wanted him to call me after he got off work, but maybe he wanted to talk before then.

It wasn't Pony, though. Instead, it was Darry who greeted me. "What did the cop say?" I asked instead of offering any kind of 'hello.' He didn't seem mad about the somewhat rude greeting.

"He's gonna have some cops patrolling our neighborhood…keep an eye on our house. He said he's gonna try to talk to some of the cops in that city too…see what he can find out."

"Our neighbors are gonna love that. Just what we needed…cops on our street." I mean, I'd kind of figured. Still, it would be weird. We'd have to be careful not to get into any trouble.

Darry snorted on the phone. "Better that than one of us getting a brick to the head. We were lucky last night, little buddy. That could have done some real damage." I just hummed in agreement, then got on with the real news.

"Pony called," I told him, hardly able to contain the excitement.

"Yeah?" He asked, sounding as excited as I felt. "He say anything?"

"Yeah. Him and Johnny got a job. They're working at a grocery store, so at least they'll have money." Darry hummed in agreement, not sounding quite as excited anymore. "It's not like he's in school or nothing." I reminded him.

"I know." He mumbled, sighing on the other line. I knew he wouldn't be happy about it, but I was trying to look on the bright side.

"Besides, he promised to call tonight after he got off work. We can both talk to him…ask him how it went." And how he was feeling. I didn't tell Darry that part…no reason for him to worry. Instead, I let him get back to work and spent the rest of the day waiting for the chance to talk to my brother again.

Darry made dinner when we got home, but I just picked at it, despite him urging me to eat. Steve and Two-Bit were both at the house, eating dinner with us and keeping guard just in case something else happened. Two-Bit was, for the first time in a while, sober, and I wondered if Darry had gotten the chance to talk to him. Either way, he was drinking milk with dinner like the rest of us since we were out of soda.

I urged Steve to go out…to go to a poker game or a race or something. I knew he'd be bored to death, sitting around the house, but he just waved me off. "When's the kid gonna call?" He asked instead, dealing Two-Bit some cards. I wondered if it would do Two-Bit some good to talk to Ponyboy too. Maybe that would get him to ease up on the drinking.

"He said it would be about nine." I guessed if I did some research, I could figure out where he could be that was two hours ahead of us, but I was almost afraid to. If I did that, I'd really be tempted to go after him.

"So we all say hello, then we go out," Steve suggested, shrugging and offering some cards to Darry who took them, sitting in his recliner and leaning forward to play. Two-Bit scooted closer to the table, and I kept an eye on the phone by Darry's chair as I looked through my cards.

Nine o'clock came and went, and I felt Darry's eyes on me. Steve's too. Two-Bit just played the game, but I saw the light going out of his eyes as the minutes passed. He'd promised. He'd promised me he'd call, and he wouldn't break that promise unless something bad had happened.

It was nearly midnight when Darry put down his cards, Steve and Two-Bit following suit after a moment. Three of us had work the next day, and Two-Bit had promised to stick around the house until the guy came to fix the window.

"Soda…" Darry was worried too, but I didn't know if it was because of me or Ponyboy.

"He said he'd call." I almost snapped, glancing over at him, then back at the phone that sat silently, mocking me from the table.

"Soda, it's almost twelve…" His voice was gentle, his hand landing on my shoulder and squeezing. "Maybe he forgot. Or maybe he was tired after work and went right to bed."

"You can't believe that." I was shaking my head, trying to pull away from him and failing. "He said he'd call. He promised. He knows I'd worry." I knew I sounded pathetic...like when we'd been little and our dad had promised to take us fishing one weekend. Something had come up at the last minute, leaving me crying in my bedroom until Darry had come in. "He promised." I'd whined, crossing my arms and pouting but letting him throw his arm around me. He'd spoken in the same tone he used now.

"Sodapop…" I didn't let him finish. This wasn't a canceled fishing trip. This was Ponyboy.

"What if something happened to him, Dar? What if he's hurt? He said he was feeling sick…what if it's bad? What if he had to go to the hospital or something?" Darry hesitated, and I knew he was upset that I hadn't told him that part. Still, he went on, not mentioning that part just yet.

"Little buddy, there's nothing we can do. Johnny's with him, remember? And they're with Dally's friend. He'll look out for them." Steve was staring at the table, jaw tight as he messed with one of his cards, but Two-Bit was watching us, his eyes stormy.

"We don't even know where he is." I choked out, dropping my head into my hands. "Or if he's okay, or…"

Darry crouched down in front of me, gripping my shoulders. "He's okay, Soda. He is. You just talked to him and he was fine. There's probably a good explanation. You can't spend all night worrying about him. You've gotta get some sleep, you dig?" I forced myself to nod, letting him pull me to my feet. "Go to bed, Soda. I'll wait up for a while…if he calls, I'll wake you."

I looked up at him, feeling about eight. "You promise?" I asked, somewhat kidding, but also hoping he would.

His eyes softened and he pat my back. "Yeah, man. I promise. Go. Go to bed."

I started to. I really did. I was going to just leave it. But this was Ponyboy, and there was no way I was going to get any sleep until I knew he was okay...or at least until I tried to find out if he was okay.

I slipped past Darry to get to the phone, grabbing the receiver and dialing. "Soda…" I shook my head, waiting for the ringing to stop and ignoring the eyes on me.

"Hello?" The somewhat familiar voice barked. In the background, country music that my brother would have hated blasted in my ears.

"Buck? It's Sodapop Curtis. Let me talk to Dallas."

 **Thank you for reading! :)**


	22. Working

**Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed, and I apologize for the mix up with the last chapter. All should be well now :) I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

 _Working_

Pony was getting sick, or already was sick, or something, which didn't bode well for us. We had to work and get money to pay for food and stuff, and probably start saving for a ticket back home if that time ever came. Course, he had three years left until he turned eighteen if it came to waiting that long, but I really hoped it didn't. This place was fine for now, but I doubted James would want us hanging around that long.

Strangely enough, it seemed like James liked me and Pony well enough, Pony especially. Earlier, when Pony had gone to call his brother, James had come out of his room, lifting an eyebrow at me on the sofa. "Where's the other one?" He'd asked, crossing his arms. He was trying to act like he didn't care much one way or the other, but I could tell he was just bluffing. A lifetime of dealing with Dal had taught me that.

"Went to call his brother."

"Hm." James stared at the door for a second, then crossed his arms, leaning in a little. "You sure his brothers didn't do that to him?" He asked, quiet, like Pony was in the room. I shook my head. Sure, Darry had hit him once, but no way he'd ever do something like this. Soda neither. Glory, I'm kind of surprised that Soda didn't hit _Darry_ for that. Soda was more protective of Pony than anyone.

"No way. He was in a foster home." I told him, sure that James wouldn't tell anybody. Especially since Dally was trusting him to…well…not really look after us, but something along those lines. Give us a place to stay at the very least.

"They get the guy?" He asked, looking upset."

I'd shaken my head. "That's why he's hiding out up here."

"Yeah...what about you?"

Pausing for a second, I'd just shrugged. "He's my best friend. Couldn't let him live up here all by himself." He'd nodded at that, almost approvingly. "We start working today." I'd told him then, not sure why but figuring he might want to know.

"Yeah? Who hired the two of you?" It was so close to something Dally might say that I'd grinned a little.

"Grocery store a little ways from here. Not too far…we'll be doing stock."

"Not a bad gig. What time you get off?"

"Around eleven." He'd hummed again.

"Let me know if you run into any trouble. Dally said the kid's big brother would come after me if I let anything happen to him, so I guess yous two are my problem now." He hadn't sounded too upset about it, just ambling off and out the door, and not long after, Pony had come back, looking drained and tired but not willing to talk about it.

Pony and I headed to the movies, neither of us really into it, but we went through the motions anyway. He leaned back in his seat, eyes closing occasionally, and I knew he was nodding off. I figured he must be awful tired. Usually, he really liked the movies. I wondered if I should call Darry or something, or maybe Dally. Dally might be better. Darry would freak out, but he might know better what to do. Or maybe Dally would know better. I didn't know. Heck, I even thought about talking to James.

Pony didn't really get sick too often. None of us did. But right after his parents had died, he'd kind of stopped hanging out with anyone, not talking much and not eating either. It was how he was now, actually. Maybe that's just how he dealt with stuff like this. Either way, Darry had been real worried, and had done his best to bring Pony out of it, but I knew that he was awful upset about his parents and trying to get custody of his brothers and worrying about Sodapop dropping out of school. Then when we'd come back from stabbing that soc, Pone had gotten kind of sick and Darry had kept him in bed, making sure he got soup and drank enough water and everything. Maybe he would be the better person to call…he was used to looking after his little brothers and he'd know what to do if Pony was getting sick.

When the movie was over, Ponyboy and I hung around the movie house, killing time until it was time for us to head to work. I'd never had a job before, and I had to admit, I was kind of nervous. What if we got fired? Or what if the police found us because someone spotted us working? I mean, Pony didn't look the same. Heck, with that scar and how skinny he was, not to mention the blond hair, I doubted even his brothers would recognize him at first. I looked the same, though.

I wondered if my parents would even look for me. Pony hadn't said anything about it, and I knew he would have asked after I asked him to. So apparently no one was looking for me. Dally would be the only on who would have cared, if I was honest…well…maybe Darry and Soda…and the guys. Just not my parents. Heck, they were probably glad I was gone. For a second, I was jealous of Pony. Darry and Soda loved him so much, and they were probably scared to death for him, and I knew they missed him. His parents, too, when they'd been alive, had loved him and wanted him and glory, I wish I had that. Then I remembered that he'd lost his parents and wondered which was worse, parents that didn't want you or parents that were dead. I glanced over at Pony as we started up the street where we'd be working and immediately felt bad for even thinking that. It didn't matter who had it worse. It sucked that my parents didn't want me around and it sucked that his parents had died before he turned fifteen.

We got to the store about ten minutes early, pushing the door open and looking around. There weren't many customers in the store, just a man with a little kid around six, both of whom stopped reading the labels of the stuff on the shelves and stared at us. We were the only white people around, and a guy around Darry's age crossed his arms, lifting an eyebrow and glancing between us and Sue who had jumped off her stool and was waving at us. "Hey Mike. Patrick."

Pony grinned and I wondered if he liked her. I'd never really known him to actually like a girl, but I guessed there was a first time for everyone. I thought back to the pretty girl in my math class and immediately pushed that thought away. She hadn't even known I'd been alive, anyway, and I'd never said anything more than 'hi' to her in the class. She'd been a soc, and no way a soc girl wanted anything to do with a greaser like me. "Hey, Sue." He waved a little, obviously trying to shake himself and wake up. He looked awful tired, still, with dark circles under his eyes.

"How are you guys?" She asked. She was wearing a green dress that matched the green ribbons in her hair, and she really did look happy to see us.

"We're fine." He grinned, glancing over at me, and I nodded.

"Yeah, ready to work." I put in.

"I'm glad to hear it." Mr. Willams emerged from the back, giving what almost looked like an approving smile and ignoring how we both jumped. I felt the eyes of everyone else in the store but he didn't seem bothered. "You're early. Good. And you're ready to work?" He confirmed.

"Yes sir." I answered for both of us, and Pony nodded. Thankfully, Mr. Williams didn't give him much of a second glance. I hoped he didn't notice and ask him to go home. We really did need money, since we were running out of food, and I wondered when we would get paid. I had some of the money I'd stolen from my old man left but we would need to buy bus tickets, hopefully, sooner rather than later, and those were kind of expensive. Besides, we needed to keep buying food if we wanted to keep eating, and that money I'd brought would run out pretty soon.

"Follow me, then." He instructed, pushing the door open to the back, and we followed, the door swinging shut beside us. The back room was like a warehouse, with boxes stacked up against the walls and a cluttered desk in the middle, covered in clipboards and papers. In the back was a sofa and a couple of metal folding chairs, which I assumed was the break room. "That's my desk. Don't touch anything except for this clipboard. This is where you're going to be keeping track of the stock that comes in and what goes on the shelves. Got it?"

We both nodded but glancing over at Pony, I knew he was having some trouble keeping up. His eyes were glazed, and I figured he had a fever or something. Either way, he was trying, and I would cover for him if I had to. I wondered if James had any aspirin at the house, or if we'd have to buy some. Or maybe he needed to see a doctor. Not that we could afford that.

"Through that door is the kitchen. If you want to bring sandwiches for dinner or something, there's an icebox you can use. There's a sink too, and glasses if you want water." I thought that some water might help Pony out, but I didn't want to suggest it just yet. Instead, I tried to focus on Mr. Williams as he explained everything to us so I could explain it to Pony later.

"You're going to be putting away stock and cleaning up the store when you're done. Sweeping the floor, dusting, and cleaning the windows. Extra stock is back here…" He pointed to the wall of boxes. "And you'll be refilling the shelves. Once a week, you'll unload the truck and put the new boxes away and take the old ones to recycling." He spoke quickly, grabbing two aprons from a hook by the door and tossing them to us. I caught them both, handing one to Ponyboy and nudging him a little when he just stood there.

"Put it on, man." I murmured as I slipped it over my head, tying it in the back. He did the same, rubbing his eyes and nodding, tying a clumsy knot behind his back.

"The store closed at 8, so you'll be locking up when you finish at 11. Drop the key in the mail slot after you're done." We both nodded to show we were keeping up. "I'll do it tonight…I'll be staying to show you what needs to be done before 11, but tomorrow I'll be going home at 9."

"Yes sir." I spoke up, and Pony was a few seconds behind with his answer. I gave him another look, but it wasn't like I could do anything or say anything with Mr. Williams in the room with us. I hoped he would leave us alone at some point so I could check on my friend. Meanwhile, we followed him around the back stockroom where he showed us where everything was, which I'd probably forget soon, but hopefully we could figure it out as we went. There were tons of boxes everywhere, and only a few were labeled, but there had to be some kind of order.

After walking us through the boxes and where everything was, he led us out to the front of the store where, once more, we found ourselves with the undivided attention of every single person in the store, all of whom were giving us weird looks. We were still the only white people in the store, and I wondered if they thought we were gonna cause trouble or something. I figured they'd realize soon enough that we just wanted to work. The big guy that had given us weird looks was still around, this time talking to Sue at the front by the register. She shook her head, glancing over at us and waving a hand carelessly through the air, apparently dismissing whatever he was saying.

We started with cans of vegetables and other stuff that went at the back of the store, restocking from boxes we found in the backroom as Mr. Williams showed us where everything went. I did my best to remember, knowing Pony was going to have more trouble since he was just doing his best to stay upright. I tried to keep an eye on him and do most of the work, hoping that Mr. Williams didn't notice how slow he was going and think he was lazy or something. He nodded when I asked if he was okay, and even though I didn't believe him, I coudln't exactly interrogate him while we were trying to work.

The customers walked around us, some of them giving us weird looks but mostly ignoring us. We were given rags to dust the shelves and brooms to sweep the floor and that took us all the way until the store was closing and people were going to Sue who was ringing them up. One guy, the one who'd been talking to Sue, kept an eye on us for a whole hour, one time going so far as to bump into Pony as he walked by. Ponyboy just stumbled a little, giving him a wide-eyed, almost scared look, but before I'd been able to say anything or get him away from my friend, Mr. Williams had walked over, dropping a hand on the guy's shoulder and giving him a look. He'd left after that.

At eight, the store closed, and Mr. Williams showed us how to lock the door as soon as the last customers had left. Sue headed home then too, wishing us luck, and Mr. Williams pulled out a couple of boxes. "Most of the stocking should be done after eight so you don't get in the way of my customers. Anything that looks low, you'll restock. Make sure to put the new stuff behind the old stuff…rotate the stock and all that." I nodded, and Pony did too after a second when I nudged him. Mr. Williams didn't seem to notice the delay. "If we're out of anything back here, write it on the clipboard there, and I'll order more." We both nodded. "For now, start on the top shelves and work your way down."

Pony and I both grabbed ladders from the back room and climbed up to the top shelves with the boxes our new boss had instructed us to put away. When Mr. Williams finally left us alone, I asked Ponyboy if he was okay, but he assured me that he was fine. I didn't believe it, but I didn't question him anymore, figuring that we'd better get to work.

I did my best to keep an eye on Pony as I worked putting the jars of sauce on the shelves. Pushing them to the back of the shelves and making sure to rotate the older jars to the front, I kept my feet firm on the ladder, gripping the shelf with one hand as I worked with the other. Pony was pale, his eyes unfocused as he worked. "Hey? You okay?" I asked again.

"Mhm." He murmured, staring at the box in his hand.

"P…Mike?" I called, glancing over at the closed door where Mr. Williams was working.

Suddenly his eyes closed, his hands slipping from the ladder as he seemed to crumple, his body hitting the floor with a dull thump. Jumping off the ladder, I swore and ran over to his side, making sure to balance the box of sauce jars on the shelf so they wouldn't break. "Ponyboy!" I called, dropping to my knees beside him and grabbing his shoulders, shaking him as hard as I dared, but he was out. Thankfully he'd been putting boxes of crackers on the shelf, so nothing was broken, and there was no glass to deal with. He'd hit his head though. His face was hot when I patted him on the cheek. "Ponyboy! Come on, man." I murmured, jumping when I glanced up to find Mr. Williams standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and incredulous.

"What the hell is going on?" He demanded, kneeling beside Ponyboy and touching his shoulder. "What happened?"

"He…he fell…" I tried to explain. He narrowed his eyes, glaring a little as he got a closer look at Pony who was pale, his cheeks flushed.

"Is he on something? I told you…"

I shook my head, wide-eyed, scared we were gonna lose our job on our first day, or worse, that he'd call the cops. "No! He's sick. He's been sick and…we started work today and we couldn't miss our first day and…"

Mr. Williams seemed to be ignoring me, reaching out for Pony's arm and pulling back his sleeve. "Is he overheated? I wouldn't doubt it, dressed like that in long…sleeves." He trailed off when the sleeve was up to his elbow. We both froze at the sight, his wide eyes seeking mine. I averted my eyes, staring at the floor instead and feeling ashamed. He hadn't wanted me to see, and now I knew why. Mr. Williams pulled his own hand back, jaw clenching as he stared at the long rows of red burns. Several of them were white and must have been from right before he'd run away. He'd lied before…they had to hurt still.

"I think you need to tell me what's going on." Mr. Williams spoke in a murmur, taking his wrist and feeling for a pulse, careful of the burns. It was hard…they were all over his arm, almost all the way up to the back of his hand.

"Is he okay?" I had to ask, reaching out and touching my friend's shoulder.

"His pulse is strong, but he does have a fever. I think he might have hurt his wrist but I'm not sure. He needs rest and fluids…a doctor wouldn't hurt."

"We can't afford it." I told him immediately, shaking my head.

"Aren't you staying with your cousin?"

I sighed. "He can't afford it either."

He gave me a long, searching look, getting his arms under my friend and lifting easily. "He's awfully light…how long has he been sick?" He asked, heading into the back room, me at his heels as he pushed the door open, careful not to hit Pony's head on the wall. He headed right for the back wall, dropping my friend carefully onto the sofa in the back and touching his forehead again.

"I…I'm not sure. A few days at least."

He hummed, face critical. "There's Aspirin in my desk…that will help with his fever, and the headache he's going to have." I ran to grab it, and he disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water. He managed to get Pony to swallow the pills, his hand resting on my friend's shoulder for a second. I could see that he was a father…a good one. One that actually cared about his daughter, and, apparently, random stock boys that collapsed at work.

"Alright, Patrick. How about you tell me what's going on? Starting with the name 'Ponyboy.'" I swore under my breath, staring down at the floor for a second. So he'd heard that. I couldn't tell him that…I couldn't be the reason that man found my friend again. For a long time, I was silent, and Mr. Williams heaved a long sigh. "Okay…how about you start with who did that to him?" He gestured to Pony's arm, which he'd covered with the sleeve again.

I swallowed hard, trying to think of a way to put it without exposing us. "He got put with a foster family. The man put out cigarettes out on his arms when he smoked." I told him, not meeting his eyes.

"What about you?" He asked, looking at my bare arms. "You don't smoke?"

"Yeah, I do." I smirked a little. "I wasn't put with a foster family." He kept staring at me and I decided to just tell him some of the truth. "I lived with my parents. His parents are dead, though. He lived with his big brother, but he got in some trouble and they put him in a boy's home…and then he got put with that foster family. That foster father…he was gonna kill him." I met his eyes for the first time, jaw tight as I hoped he wouldn't out us...that he saw how serious I was. "He ran away. Our friend helped him get away, and I came up here when I found out he was alone."

"Where are you really living?" Mr. Williams asked after a moment.

"Our friend knows a guy in the city. He's letting us stay with him while we're here. We gotta buy our own food and stuff though, so we need this job."

"How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen."

"And…Mike?" He'd know if I lied. I stared down at my feet.

"Fifteen." I murmured. He sighed, clasping his hands on his lap. "Please…if you gotta fire us, then…then that's…I mean, we'll figure something else out. But…Mr. Williams, please don't tell anyone. Please. That man…he's still looking for Po…Mike. And if he finds him, he'll kill him."

"Why?"

"He…Mike saw him do something bad. And that guy knows he saw him."

Mr. Williams was quiet for a long time. Not able to stand it anymore, I pulled down my friend's sleeve. He didn't want me to see it…didn't want anyone to, so I could respect that at least. Finally, Mr. Williams looked up at me. "So you aren't brothers?"

"We are in every way that matters. He's my best friend, and I can't let someone hurt him. Not again."

"If he doesn't wake up by morning, he'll have to go to the hospital." Mr. Williams told me eventually. "He hit his head pretty hard…I heard him from back here. Go on out and finish putting the boxes away. He'll be okay here."

"You aren't going to tell?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"You know, Sue wouldn't tell me exactly what he did to help her, but I know she was scared and this young man helped her. Besides, he's just a kid. I'm not going to send him back to a man that's going to hurt him." I smiled; nodding and feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. "Go on, finish up for the night. He'll be okay here for a while." He dropped a hand on my buddy's shoulder, but Pony didn't move.

I headed back out onto the floor, climbing on the ladder and pushing the jars back onto the shelf. What if he wasn't okay? I couldn't help that thought. Should I call his brothers? Would Darry want to know that Pony was sick? Or Sodapop? Should I call Dally and explain? What about James? How would I get him home?

The questions floated around in my head as I worked, then climbed back down the ladder and to where Pony had been putting away the crackers. I worked for almost two hours before I finally finished stocking the shelves and cleaning up, then all but ran to the back room to find my friend still out of it, Mr. Williams crouching beside him, his hand on Pony's forehead. "Mike?" He was speaking quietly, shaking him a little, and I moved to stand beside them, crouching down by the couch. Mr. Williams glanced up at me as I joined them.

"Nothing?" I asked.

"Not yet. His fever's still up…"

"I didn't know how sick he was." I murmured, crossing my arms defensively. "He seemed okay earlier."

"He might have just gotten dizzy, up on that ladder." Mr. Williams stood to his full height, regarding the two of us with a serious expression. "As soon as he wakes up, you can take him home. He needs to rest…do you think he'll be able to walk?"

"Yeah. I'll get him home." I didn't know how…but I wasn't about to ask this guy, our new boss, to help. Mr. Williams nodded and patted me on the shoulder.

"I'm going to get some work done. I'll be at my desk. Let me know when he wakes up."

"Yes sir…thank you." I murmured, staying where I was at Pony's side, glad that he didn't want me to keep working out on the floor while my friend was sick. I knelt on the floor, putting the back of my hand on his forehead. He was hot.

I stood up, glancing at Mr. Williams who was sitting at his desk. As if he could feel me looking, he glanced up. "He's real hot…can I get a washcloth or something?" I asked, fighting not to cross my arms defensively. It wouldn't exactly endear me to our boss, but I hated asking grown ups for things.

To my surprise, our boss nodded, standing and heading into the little kitchen, then emerging with a wash cloth he'd soaked with cold water and rung out. I took it, thanking him in a voice just above a mumble, then crouched beside my friend again, holding it to his forehead. He flinched a little, shifting away from me, and I put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't open his eyes, though. Biting my lip, I wondered if I ought to ask to use the phone to call his brothers or something. But they'd just worry, and there was nothing I could tell them yet. Instead, I sat down on the floor, hoping he woke up soon and wondering how I was supposed to get him home by myself.

 **Thank you for reading!**


	23. Memories Good and Bad

**Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. I really appreciate it. :) I hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

 _Memories Good and Bad_

It was my first day in that hellhole…that's how the dream started. In the dream, I was real scared, but I hadn't been in real life. Just another bed to sleep in until I got to go home to my real family, that's how I'd viewed it. All I'd wanted was to go home…and find a way to contact my brothers, Darry especially, who I hadn't talked to since that last day at the house, and that hadn't been much of a conversation. Glory, I missed Darry. Ever since they'd taken me away from the house…since he'd pulled me back and held me and I'd remembered that things hadn't always been awful between us…I'd been desperate to call him. But ever time I'd had the chance, I'd been too scared to call the house.

Then it was a different day…not my first day. The day I'd stolen two quarters from Tyler's backpack to take the bus across town. The asshole had put a cigarette out on my arm! It had hurt almost more than anything, and I'd screamed, trying to pull away or fight or something, but too surprised to do anything. I'd cried too, curled up in my bed and wanting Darry worse than anything. Sure, Sodapop would make me feel better, but Darry would beat the hell out of that guy for me. He'd been furious when Curly and I had held lit cigarettes to our fingertips, and that had been _me_ doing it. I couldn't imagine how he'd react to someone else doing it to me. He'd knock his teeth out, that was for sure. Maybe put out some cigarettes on his face.

In the dream, the social worker led me into the room and I still couldn't believe it. In real life, I'd told the woman everything, which hadn't been too much yet. Just the yelling and the other girl crying. I hadn't wanted to show her, but I had. I'd pulled up my sleeve, showing the angry white blister on my arm. She'd nodded, looking concerned, and had put a hand on my shoulder, leading me outside and to her car. For a while, I'd thought she was going to take me back to my brothers…that they were going to tell me this was a mistake. Darry would be home and he would hold me and promise that everything would be okay. He'd see my arm and put something on it and apologize and Soda would hold me and…the daydream had abruptly ended when we'd pulled up outside that house, and stupid me, I'd even told the lady I didn't care about any of the stuff there…

In my dream, I fought. I tried to pull away from her hand on my arm and screamed and even hit the lady. And when Richard went ahead and took off his belt instead of waiting for her to leave, holding it loosely in his hand like Two-Bit would hold his switch or like Curly Shepherd held a broken bottle, I'd fought even harder. If only.

He'd waited, in real life, until the social worker was gone to hit me. But the belt swung down in my dream, a hand still around my wrist, and I screamed, feeling the sting of the belt on my shoulder and my back. Thank goodness Dallas hadn't made me take off my shirt. He'd have seen the marks on my back and, well…worried, even more, I guess, or told my brothers, no matter how much I'd asked him not to.

The hand on my wrist tightened and I tried again to pull away. "Pony? Ponyboy?" Someone was saying my name, which was weird, since apart from the day we'd met, Richard had never said my name. It was always 'kid' or 'boy' which were two nicknames I'd learned to hate. Apparently, he'd thought my name was stupid or something, which was nothing new, nor was it something I cared about. But this person was saying 'Ponyboy' and a finger pushed against a burn on my wrist. I jerked away, hating the whine that escaped. "Sorry." The person murmured, releasing my arm.

Glory my head hurt. And I was tired. Which didn't make sense, because I think I was asleep. Or maybe not…I couldn't tell. Something cool was laid on my forehead and I groaned, shivering a little. I was cold, but it didn't feel bad. I pushed at the thing on my head and the hand caught my wrist again, making me yell and try to jerk away. "Pony, wake up." The voice murmured, someone shaking my shoulder. "Mike?" The same voice asked, louder this time.

"What?" I asked, frowning and trying to open my eyes. Mike?

"Michael? Come on, man. Wake up." He was speaking louder and I finally managed to open my eyes, wincing at the light and staring at the silhouette kneeling over me. I tried to jerk away, having nothing but bad experiences with people standing over me recently, but a hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed a little. That wasn't something Richard would do. Hell, Richard never touched me unless he was hitting me. So maybe Mark or Tyler? Once or twice they'd picked me up off the floor when he'd beaten the shit out of me, throwing me on the bed and giving me some Aspirin.

"Is he awake?" I didn't like the sound of that and flinched away, but the guy over me just patted my shoulder.

"Yeah, he's waking up. Mike? You okay?"

"What happened?" I asked, figuring it was a safe bet and trying to remember what exactly had led to me lying on a sofa like this.

"We're at work. You fell off the ladder." The guy sounded worried and it clicked, then, who was with me.

"Jo…Patrick?" I asked, rubbing at my eyes and trying to sit up, remembering at the last second why he'd been calling me Mike. He helped, pulling me up by my shoulder and sitting me up against the back of the sofa, his hand on my back helping me sit up. The room spun but I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on staying upright.

Johnny grinned, looking relieved. "Yeah, man. You okay?"

"I…think so. Yeah." I was still cold and dizzy, but I could see someone else in the room…Mr. Williams. Our boss. I'd fallen off a ladder on our first day of work. Shit. "I'm sorry…did I break anything?"

Mr. Williams shook his head, coming forward and reaching for my face. I flinched; jerking away, and he paused, and then placed his hand against my forehead. "You've got a fever, son. You'd best head on home. You two gonna be alright, or do you need a ride?" Fever? I mean I'd figured I was getting sick, but I guess it was worse than I'd thought. I swayed a little, and Johnny kept his hand firm on my back to hold me up.

"We'll be fine." Johnny insisted, and I let him haul me to my feet where I tried not to fall over. I wanted to disagree. I'd have loved a ride, but for some reason, Johnny kept his arm around me. The room still felt like it was spinning, and I fought not to close my eyes. I doubted that would help. Gripping Johnny's shoulder, I did my best to stand upright, staggering after him as he took most of my weight.

"Are you sure?" He asked, narrowed eyes on us, and I nodded. No matter how bad I felt, I knew we needed this job.

"Yeah…I'll be alright." I assured, and Johnny seconded that as he led me out of the room and out onto the street.

"Stay home tomorrow, Mike. Get some rest. I don't want your concussion on my hands." Mr. Williams called after us as he shut the door behind us, smiling wryly. He still looked worried, though. I couldn't quite figure out why.

"What's going on?" I asked after a few minutes of walking, my brain sluggishly trying to keep up as I gripped his shirt.

"We're gonna get you home so you can rest, man." Johnny told me, patting my back.

"Did I get us fired?" I was slurring. "I didn't drink anything." I told Johnny, not wanting him to think I was drinking at work. He hesitated in the street, giving me a weird look.

"No, you didn't get us fired. And we can get you some water as soon as we get home, alright?" He was trying to reassure me.

"What?" I asked, rubbing at my eyes. "I mean…beer or nothin'."

"Yeah, I know you weren't." He answered slowly. "You're sick. That's why you fell, man. You feeling okay?"

"Just…dizzy. Tired."

"You can sleep as soon as we get home."

"Home?"

"Back to James's place." He corrected himself, probably hearing the hope in my voice.

"I wanna go home…I miss Darry and Soda." I murmured. He squeezed my shoulder.

"I know, man." He sounded sad. I sighed, making sure my legs worked and that I managed to keep up with him. The whole world was spinning, but suddenly I remembered something.

"I gotta call Soda, Johnny."

"You already called him, Pone." He was trying to calm me down as we stumbled together down the road. I closed my eyes, shaking my head. I didn't think I had, but maybe he was right. I remembered talking to him. He'd been real happy to hear from me…and Steve too. I must have already talked to them.

I closed my eyes, just moving with Johnny until I heard someone else's voice. "The hell happened to him?"

"He's sick…he fell off a ladder at the store."

There was a long, exhausted sign, and someone got under my other side, helping me stand until I was pushed onto a sofa. I tried to stay sitting up, but I had almost fallen over when someone caught me again. A light was switched on and I flinched, trying to hide from the brightness. "He's bleeding."

"His head?"

"No…well yeah. His side too."

"Pony? Did you hit something when you fell?" Johnny asked, but I couldn't remember.

"Come on, kid. Take your shirt off?" Dally? Was Dally here? I shook my head, firm on that point. No way. Dally would tell my brothers and I didn't want them to know. I didn't want them to know that I'd stood still while a man had beat me with a belt…that I'd put my hands against a wall and just let him hurt me. I mean they already knew I wasn't tough, but this was a new kind of cowardly. I shook my head, hating the hot tears that filled my eyes. "Kid…" Dally couldn't threaten me all he wanted. I wasn't gonna do it.

Hands gripped the bottom of my shirt, pulling, and I swung, my fist connecting with something. Not a face…probably someone's arm. "Stop, Dally!" I shouted, shoving at the hand that tried to grab me, knowing what Dally would do to me for hitting him and not caring.

"Will you stop hitting me? I ain't Dally!" The other voice snarled, and I went still, hating myself for shrinking against the back of the sofa and hating the hot tears that dripped down my face and hating Richard more than I'd ever hated anyone. It was all his fault. The voice was softer then, not by much, but at least he hadn't hit me. "Shit, kid. It's James, okay? I ain't gonna hurt you. I just want to get your shirt off and see why you're bleeding."

"James?" I rubbed at my eyes, wondering why my head hurt so bad and why I was so tired and why I couldn't remember where Dallas had gone. "Where's Dally?"

"Back in Tulsa, Pony." Johnny reminded me. I'd forgotten he was there.

"Johnny, I'm supposed to call Sodapop."

"The hell…how hard did he hit his head?" James asked, sounding more worried than before.

"That's his brother's name."

"Sodapop?" James sighed again. "Right. Whatever. Get your shirt off kid, then you can call your brother." I didn't know what one had to do with the other, but while I didn't take it off, I also didn't fight him when he pulled at my t-shirt, holding my arms up and pulling it over my head. It smelled like blood, and I brought a hand to my side automatically when it pulled a little. I hadn't noticed before…but the bandage I'd wrapped over it was wet.

They could see my arms. If they hadn't already seen my back, they would soon. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see Johnny's face…not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. The tears kept coming but I didn't care. I didn't care about any of it. It was something I'd learned when I'd lived with the asshole…when he'd hit me or scream at me, I'd just go away. Tell myself it didn't matter over and over until it didn't. It didn't matter how much it hurt when the belt hit or me how much I missed my brothers when he'd put cigarettes out on my arms or how he'd beat on the door...

Someone eased the bandage on my side away, pulling at the tape that held it in place, and a second later, burning fire was pressed to the cut. I arched my back, trying to escape…in my head I screamed but I didn't open my mouth. I knew what happened when I opened my mouth.

I usually picked Gone with the Wind. Scarlett O'Hara, the selfish, beautiful woman and the men who loved her. Johnny was reading the book, but we'd gone to see the movie together. Or Moby Dick. It had taken almost a whole month to read that one, but I'd done it. A ship out on the sea and a white whale. I didn't want to kill a whale, but I'd think about the ocean I'd never seen and wonder what it looked like to be surrounded by water.

"We need to put something on his arms. Some of those burns already look infected. He must have put a whole bunch of alcohol on his face, otherwise, it would be infected too."

"Won't it hurt him?"

"It'll hurt him worse if it gets infected."

Other times, it would be real things. Memories. Fishing trips with my dad. Cheering for Darry's football team. Playing cards with the guys. Or my fourteenth birthday, Darry and Soda making me a cake and waking me up early. The guys all over at our place, and Darry grilling in the back yard. The book Johnny had gotten me...some new paperback mystery that I read in a day. A couple of bucks from Two-Bit in a card with a red car on it meant for a five-year old. That had made everybody laugh, but I couldn't be mad at Two-Bit, so I'd laughed too, swatting him with it. A pack of cigarettes from Steve who had rolled his eyes when I'd tried to thank him, telling me I'd better not bug him for anymore for at least a week. And a pocketknife from Dally, the most unexpected of the gifts dropped into my hand at the end of the day. He'd grinned at me, ruffling my hair and wishing me a happy birthday.

"Pony? You okay, man?" Someone shook my shoulder, their finger brushing against a scar on my back. It was a raised mark, still, even after weeks of being away, thought not nearly as bad as my face or the cut on my side. I kept my eyes closed. Let them think I was asleep. The person beside me scooted over a little, moving closer to me and moving my arm. "Oh shit…"

"The hell, man?" That was James again, sounding more and more tired…almost sad.

"What…what did…"

"A belt." James answered, his voice sharp, although I figured he wasn't mad at Johnny. "Someone belted him. More than once." A careful hand touched my back.

From Darry, I'd gotten some shirts and a new pair of shoes. Before, I'd just been wearing Soda's old ones, so that had been a good surprise. Soda had given me some money that he must have taken out of his paycheck. Later, when we'd gone to bed, I'd tried to argue that he couldn't afford it and he'd cuffed me on the head. "Don't you be telling me how to spend my money, kid." He'd mock-scolded, then put an arm around me, telling me that Steve had wanted to give me a roll of condoms, but he and Darry had found out and warned him not to…I guess they told him it was too soon after our parents to be messing with me like that, especially on my birthday.

Something burned my arms and a cool rag was laid on my head as someone eased me down to lie on the sofa. I was freezing, though, and groped for the blankets. "Cold." I managed to tell them, suddenly shivering. I knew Johnny was there, somewhere. I didn't want to think about it, though. James neither. I wanted to go back to my birthday party. Someone pat me on the shoulder and pulled the blanket up to my chest. A hand went under my head then, and a straw was held to my mouth. I drank the lukewarm water, gulping as I realized how thirsty I was until someone pulled it away.

"You're gonna make yourself sick, kid. Slow down." Someone warned while someone else put something on my arm. They pressed a little too hard on one of the fresher burns and I whimpered, the noise escaping against my will.

The morning after my birthday, when I'd gone out on the porch to smoke, I'd found a little foil package in the bottom of the pack and had cried for almost an hour, my arms folded on the railing, my shoulders shaking as I'd sobbed. It had been Two-Bit who'd come out onto the porch with me, rubbing my back for a long time. Apparently, he'd slept on the sofa. "Steve was just goofing around, kiddo. Didn't mean nothing by it." He'd finally said, and I'd shaking my head, throwing the condom and the cigarettes down on the ground.

"I don't care about that." I'd sobbed, my voice breaking halfway through, and he'd kept rubbing my back.

"Yeah, I know."

I felt myself fading and wondered what time it was…or what day. Johnny and I had gone to work. Then…nothing. I could barely remember Mr. Williams telling us what we were supposed to be doing, but I guess he had. Someone had me drink some more water and kept something cold on my forehead. I went from hot to cold, trying to stay in my memory.

I'd cried for a long time, but only Two-Bit had been awake. He'd rubbed my back, then put an arm around my shoulder, letting me lean against him, his arms around me like Soda would have. "I want my mom and dad." I'd been ashamed even as I'd let myself say it, my tears soaking through his shirt, and he'd leaned his head on top of mine. I remember thinking that he must be real good with his little sister when she was upset.

"I know you do, kid. I know."

"It ain't fair." I'd practically yelled it, my voice muffled in his shoulder.

"No…it ain't." His voice was soft and reasonable. He didn't tell me that life wasn't fair, though. He didn't tell me to pull myself together or calm down. He just let me be, sitting back and holding me and letting me finish crying until I was calmer, my breath hitching a little every few seconds. I wiped my eyes on my shirt, too ashamed to look at him, but he'd reached out, his hand resting on the back of my neck, and I'd finally met his eyes.

He'd been smiling a little, but his eyes had been dead serious. "You're gonna be just fine, kid. We're gonna look out for you. Darry and Soda, and the rest of us too, savvy?"

I'd nodded, wiping at my eyes, wishing my breath would stop catching and that my throat didn't ache so much. "Yeah."

With that, he'd reached down and swiped the presents I'd thrown on the floor, dropping the condom into his pocket and handing me the smokes and lighting a cigarette for me. Later that week, Steve had been fuming when he'd pulled out one of his books from his backpack and a condom had fallen out of his bag and onto the floor in the middle of math class. A socy girl beside him had seen it and screamed a little, and all the guys had laughed. Two-Bit had gone around calling him a sex fiend for a month.

I stayed there, remembering, even when I felt like I was so cold and shivering so hard my ribs would break. Then I'd get so hot, I'd kick off the blankets and moan, wishing the rag on my forehead was cooler. Every so often, it would be, but then it would warm up and I'd push it away until the chills came back. There were still voices but I really couldn't hear them anymore…or maybe it was just too much effort to keep up with them. Instead, I went back to Two-Bit, the tough greaser who won every fight he got himself into, and how he'd held me on our front porch, rubbing my back and promising that he'd look out for me. I managed to stay there until the phone rang, jerking me awake for just a moment until someone answered and I was allowed to drift back to sleep.

 **Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	24. Drinking

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I appreciate it so much! I hope you enjoy the new chapter!**

 _Drinking_

"You're gonna be just fine, kid. We're gonna look out for you. Darry and Soda, and the rest of us too, savvy?" That's what I'd said to newly fourteen-year-old Ponyboy Curtis, Sodapop's shadow and Johnny's best friend the morning after his birthday. I'd known the kid for years, and I'd been looking out for him for just as long. I'd watched his back in fights. I'd walked him and Johnny around town, to and from school, to the library, to the DX…I'd been there during his first rumble when he'd snuck out with his brothers and had come home with a black eye. I'd also watched him break the nose of the soc who'd given it to him.

I'd stepped out onto the porch to find him crying. No…not just crying. Sobbing. The kind of heart-breaking, too painful to stop sobbing that my baby sister had done when our old man had split. Just like I'd done with her, I'd sat down beside him, rubbing his back then all out holding him, knowing he was embarrassed but also that he couldn't help it. But the kid was right…it wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Not their parents both dying or Darry having to try so hard to keep his family together and keep them afloat. It wasn't fair. But we both knew that there was nothing we could do about that, so we just had to do the best we could. And I'd meant what I'd said. We would look out for Ponyboy.

It was the same thing I assured Darry of all the time, especially after their parents had died and he'd been worried all the time, suddenly trying to keep track of two little brothers at all time. I'd look after Ponyboy. All of us would, but I was the oldest. Plus, I liked Pony. He was a good kid. Tough and smart, kind of a smartass but he got that from me, so I was proud. Darry, not so much. Still, I'd promised Darry over and over that I'd look out for Pone…that the kid was safe with me. And sure, Darry and Soda worried about me drinking around the kid, but they trusted me.

I'd started drinking around 2 o'clock, after we'd saved the kid from those socs. I figured I'd just drink a few, maybe three or four, then meet the kids at the movies. I'd been late, though, and had found the kids sitting with some pretty soc girls. Not bugging them or anything. Pony and Johnny were nice kids. They wouldn't hurt any girls…heck they didn't even talk to them much. So it had been kind of a surprise to find them sitting with Cherry and Marcia, Bob and Randy's girls. I'd figured we could give the girls a ride home, then I'd tell them they'd better stay away from those girls. I mean, I knew they'd never bother them or hurt 'em, but those socs would be mad if they knew, and then we'd have two more of them after those kids, which was the last things we needed. Of course, I'd tried to get Marcia's number, but I could take care of those socs if they came after me...they couldn't.

When we'd met Bob and Randy on our way to my truck, I'd given Pony the bottle, not thinking he'd ever use it. But now…I think he'd have used it if we'd needed him to. Had either of us needed him, I had a feeling that he'd have stepped up. Either way, those girls had left and then…I'd gone home to drink some more. That's why I hadn't walked the kids home. Sure we hadn't been too far from his house, but we'd been far enough. "We're gonna look out for you." That's what I'd said to him. "I'll keep an eye on him, don't worry. I won't let anyone bug him." That's what I'd said to Darry.

Darry had been worried…Sodapop too. After their parents had died, Pony had seemed to disappear. I mean, he was there, but his mind hadn't been. He'd stopped talking, stopped eating…barely read or anything. Just sat around, starting at the TV or the wall or whatever happened to be in front of him. Dally and Johnny would drag him to movies and he'd just sit there, shrugging when I'd ask him what the movie had been about. Sodapop would try and talk to him…he'd had more success than the rest of us, but still…

His brothers had been real scared, especially when he wouldn't eat or talk much, but I'd known that he'd just needed time. So I'd kept taking him to the movies, giving him rides to school and buying him lunches he barely ate. Almost two months after his parents died, around his fourteenth birthday, he'd been coming out of it. And the day after, when I'd held him on the porch and told him it was going to be okay, he'd started smiling again…started going to movies and reading his books and doing better in school. Right before his parents had died, he'd been bumped up a grade, putting him in the same school as the rest of us, which he'd seemed to like, but it must have kept him away from his other friends, which probably made things harder for him.

Anyway, he was getting better and all of us were relieved, but we still kept an eye on him. All of us. Dally took him to the movies…until he got locked up for a few months. Then it was me, hanging out with him and Johnny and watching their backs. At school, Steve kept a close eye on him, even though the kid never really suspected Steve of looking after him. Either way, he kept the socs off his back and beat the hell out of anyone that messed with the kid.

Ponyboy looked up to me. That's what Soda had told me after I'd woken up with a hangover at their house once. And I'd taken it to heart. Sure I still drank around the kid, but I tried to be careful. Let him have a sip of my beer every once in a while…heck, I even gave him one to drink sometimes, but I kept a close eye on him, and I tried not to get too drunk when I was looking after him. But I'd gotten into it with my mom that day. She was seeing some guy who'd left a bruise on her, and I'd wanted to know his name.

Mom dated sometimes, and it didn't bug me, but no way was I letting her bring that man anywhere near my baby sister. She'd left for work, refusing to tell me, and I'd started drinking. I'd told the kids and Dally I'd join them, but I'd lost track of time, and then, when the soc girls had gone with their boyfriends…I'd just wanted to get home and drink some more. Marcia had been a good reminder of what exactly I was…a greaser. Some worthless, drunk, JD hood…that was how Marcia saw me. Hell, it was probably how my little sister would start seeing me soon.

The kids had stopped at the lot and fell asleep. That's why Darry and Ponyboy had gotten into it. I had to admit, I had been pretty mad at Darry…I still kind of was. Ponyboy had said that his brother hated him…that he didn't want him. That he wanted to send Pony to a boy's home. It was such a ridiculous idea, but I knew the kid had meant it. I guess because Darry was on him all the time. Lately Pony had been avoiding Darry as much as he could, and Sodapop was stressed because he was always stuck in the middle. Darry was stressed because he worked all the time and never had any fun anymore, but the kid didn't get that. I guess he was just too young to realize it.

Sure, it had been dumb for those two to stop at the lot and fall asleep, especially with socs after them. Pony's curfew wasn't until midnight as long as it wasn't a school night, but he was usually in before that. He was a good kid…never got into fights at school or caused any trouble around town. Was careful never to do anything that could cause trouble for Darry. Didn't start things with socs, didn't mess with any girls…him and Johnny both were good kids. But they had their heads in the clouds, not a lot of common sense between them, and they'd fallen asleep talking, which sounded just like them.

Then they'd taken the kid. It was Darry's worst fear…Sodapop and the kid's too. Ponyboy had been scared to death that him and his brothers would get separated…that someone would take him away from the only family he knew. And they had. He'd nearly been killed in the park while I was passed out drunk in my bed…him and Johnny both. And Johnny had had to kill someone to save Ponyboy's life. And I had been passed out drunk in my bed. Then they'd taken him. They'd taken Ponyboy away and we hadn't seen him in nearly a year.

He'd called…he'd talk to Sodapop a couple of times, but according to Soda, the kid hadn't been okay. Now I knew why. That man had hurt him. He'd beaten him and tortured him and…Ponyboy was just a kid. Just a little kid that had been afraid that his big brother wanted to send him to a boy's home and who'd cried the morning after his fourteenth birthday because he wanted his mom and dad. He'd lost his family and friends and had been put with a man that put out cigarettes on his arm when he caught him smoking, which had apparently been often. And who knew what else that man had done to him?

The night the kid's foster brothers had come and told Soda and Darry all of it…the night Pony's brothers had told the rest of us what that man had done to Ponyboy, I'd gone home and cried. All I could think of was the kid crying the day after his birthday…how he'd sobbed on my shoulder for close to half an hour on his front porch. He was too young for that…too young to have been so afraid. And after I'd finished crying, I'd started drinking and I don't think I've stopped since. Until last night.

Ponyboy wouldn't let Sodapop down. He'd do just about anything to make Soda happy. He loved his brother more than anyone and those two were close. So if Ponyboy had told his brother that he'd call back, he'd call back, come hell or high water. We'd been waiting all night for the kid to call…the poker game was just a distraction. Something to keep Soda from going crazy with the waiting.

I knew Darry wanted to suggest he and Steve go out for a while since Soda tended to get a little stir crazy, but I also knew Soda wouldn't go anywhere and risk missing his chance to talk to Pony. Neither would I. I just wanted to talk to the kid. Just wanted to hear him telling me he really was okay. I'd let him down and I had to know if that could be forgiven…not that the kid would hold it against me…not the kid that I knew, anyway. Who knew what he was like now? Something like what he'd gone through changed a person. I didn't know if I could bear seeing him different…scared like Johnny or mean like Dally. Or maybe he'd turned into a drunk like me. I didn't know which would be worse.

The night before, when someone had thrown a rock through the Curtis's window, I'd been laying on my bed, my sixth beer in my hand. Flipping through an old magazine, I'd been trying to decide between a bar and Tim's place for my first stop that night. I couldn't just lay in my bed and drink all night…my mom would be coming home soon and she hated to see me too drunk to stand up. Said it reminded her of my old man. So I tried to do my heaving drinking elsewhere.

My little sister had knocked on my door, peeking into my room from the hallway. She usually just came in, but when I was drinking a lot, she tended to stay away. Recently, she'd stayed away a lot, and under the constant buzz, I felt kind of bad. She was a cool kid and I loved her a lot. I didn't want her to be scared of me like she'd been of our old man. Even drunk, I'd never lay a hand on her. I'd never laid a hand on anyone I liked drunk.

"Keith?" She'd all but whispered. Her eyes had been red-rimmed, her fingers wrapped around the door frame as a tear had dripped from the corner of her eye. If I hadn't been out of it, I would have been more worried about that.

"Yeah…what's up, kid?" I'd asked, trying not to slur too much, dropping the magazine beside my bed where it fell against the wall. It really wasn't the kind she needed to be seeing.

"Can I ask you something?" She'd asked, her voice too quiet. I'd nodded.

"Sure thing, kiddo."

"Is…is Ponyboy dead?" I'd frozen, then sat up, staring at her with wide eyes, ignoring the fact that she backed away when the beer had slipped out of my hand, hitting the floor hard.

"Where the hell did you hear that?" I'd asked, my voice coming out harder than I'd meant it to.

"A girl in my class…said that someone killed him. In a bar. Him and his foster sister."

"That girl's a damn liar!" I'd snapped, hands tight. "He ain't dead. He's fine." He could have been dead, though. And it would have been my fault. If the kid had died, it would have been on me. I don't think Soda or Darry would have seen it that way, but it still would have been my fault. I'd stood, swaying a little as I'd done my best to storm out, on my way to the Curtis house. Sure, they disapproved of my drinking, but they'd let me stay the night. Maybe I could ask them about the kid…see if they'd heard from him.

Susan had backed away, getting out of my way, and I'd caught her arm, releasing her immediately when she'd flinched. That, at least, sobered me up a little. "Hey…it's alright, Suzie. I'm sorry." I'd wrapped an arm clumsily around her, and she'd hugged me, hesitant as she'd leaned her head against me, then pulled away, wrinkling her nose.

"You smell like beer, Keith."

"Go to bed. I'm gonna stay over at Darry and Soda's if you need me, okay?" She'd nodded, slinking off to her room, and I'd resolved to drink less around her. She looked up to me too.

The kid hadn't called. He'd promised to call and he hadn't. We all knew that was bad. He wouldn't let Soda down. Ever. I couldn't believe he'd changed that much. No matter what, he wouldn't want to let his big brother down, or worry him any more than he had to. He was a good kid. Man, I missed him. I missed taking him to the movies and hanging out with him at school and finding him at the house, nose in a book and oblivious to everything else going on.

Something was wrong. If he'd promised Sodapop that he'd call, nothing much would have stopped him. If that kid was hurt, it would be on me. I don't think Darry would blame me. Not Sodapop either. But it was my fault. I'd let those kids wander home on their own, knowing that socs were wandering around, ready to hunt them down. I should have walked them home, or at least to the Curtis's house. I should have made sure they were okay before going home to drink.

I'd grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from my truck on the way, taking a swig as I'd walked, then another. My mom was seeing some guy that had hit her, and I'd need to take care of that. I was drinking myself to death…even _I_ could see it. The kid was gone, Johnny too, and I had no idea if they were alright. Darry and Soda were freaking out, worried all the time. And as I'd approached the house, I'd frozen on the sidewalk out front, dropping the almost empty whiskey bottle and had stared at the gaping hole where their window should have been.

Sodapop grabbed the phone, stepping around his brother. Darry didn't try to stop him, just sighed, watching him dial, and we all listened as he demanded to speak to Dallas. After a second, Dally must have picked up…he was a lot more available these days. Then again, he had two kids stashed who-knows-where, relying on him, so I guess he was laying low. "Dal? It's Soda."

I could just make out Dal's voice from the phone. I scooted closer, and we all leaned in, listening, even Darry. "Yeah, Buck told me. What do you need, man?"

"I need you to call Pony and Johnny."

"Why?"

"Because he hasn't called."

"Maybe he's busy."

"He should have called hours ago. Something's wrong." Dal was still being quiet and I tried to listen but I couldn't catch any of his words. Soda clenched his jaw. "He said he wasn't feeling good…that he might be getting sick. I need to talk to him." Dallas said something else, and Soda sighed. "Please, Dally. Please. I'm worried. I just…I need to talk to him. Please."

There was silence for a moment, and then Soda hung up the phone, turning to Darry and crossing his arms. "Dally's on his way over." Darry just nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing for a second. Steve sat back, apparently getting comfortable, and I did the same, crossing my arms.

That morning, Darry had shaken me awake. Well…closer to afternoon, after Sodapop and Steve had already gone to work. I'd tried to push him off, but he'd kept his hand on my arm. "Wake up, Two. Come on, man. Time to get up."

"What?" I'd groaned, flinching at the light as he pulled the curtains, letting the afternoon light into the room. "Shit, Dar…close that, will ya?"

"No." Darry had snapped, dropping into his recliner and crossing his arms. Groaning again, I'd managed to throw my legs over the side of the couch, rubbing my face and leaning back, trying to open my eyes against the light. Finally, I was able to manage it, blinking and fighting back the groan. My head was killing me, and I couldn't think real well around the pounding in my head.

"What's up, man?" I'd finally asked, running a hand through my hair.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." I had been quiet, not sure how to answer that. "What's up, Two-Bit?"

"Nothing…just sleeping." I'd grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but he'd just stared at me in the same way he'd stared at Ponyboy, back when the kid had been quiet and all clammed up. I'd yawned a little, crossing my arms and letting the grin fall.

"It ain't none of my business what you do, Two-Bit…"

"Well, you're right about that." I'd interrupted, but he'd gone on like I hadn't said anything.

"…but we're worried." That had stopped me in my tracks, my mouth dropping open a little before I'd snapped it shut. "You're drinking too much, Two…you're hardly ever around and you're getting in fights."

"Wow…sounds like my old man crawled out of his grave to give me some last minute parenting." Darry had lifted an eyebrow, surprised.

"Your old man's dead?"

"Surely someone's killed that asshole by now." I'd deadpanned, and he'd grinned just a bit.

"What's going on, Two-Bit?" I'd shaken my head.

"Nothing, man. It's summer vacation. I'm enjoying my freedom." He'd hummed a little, rolling his eyes.

"Try to enjoy it a little less, wouldya? You're freaking Soda out, and he's got enough to worry about." That had surprised me a little, and I'd leaned in, a sinking feeling in my gut.

"What's Sodapop got to do with this?"

"Apparently you and him had a talk last night." I'd scratched my head, frowning.

"Nope…don't think so…"

"Oh, you did. Went on about how bad you felt for Pony…how awful it was, everything that he'd gone through. That's what Steve said anyway." I'd sworn, downing the water. It was an unwritten rule between all of us…don't bring up the kid, at least not to Darrel or Sodapop. Or if you got to, then don't talk about what that man had done to the kid. Steve had been dumb enough to make some kind of dumb joke about the kid tagging along or something, and Darrel had just about broken his jaw. I was surprised that Steve still had his front teeth. Soda had been so mad he hadn't spoken to him for days, even at work. I hadn't really wanted to talk to him either. He hadn't meant anything by it, but it had been stupid. And that hole in the wall…no one even wanted to ask about that.

I'd pulled myself to my feet, pushing a hand against my head and then dropping it, feeling I deserved the hangover. Heading into the kitchen, I'd grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from his sink, downing it. "I'm sorry." I'd murmured, placing the glass in the sink and crossing my arms, facing Darry who had come to stand in the doorway.

"Just ease up, alright man?" I'd nodded, not sure how I was going to keep my word on that one. Still, all day I'd managed to stay sober, sticking around the house until Darry had brought the new window, then helped him put it in. I was pretty shit at construction work, but I did my best, taking orders and trying not to upset him any more than he already was. They'd cleaned up the glass while I'd been asleep the night before, so he just put the old broken window out with the trash.

Dally showed up about a twenty minutes after Soda called him, throwing the door open and nodding hello. Not sparing the rest of us much of a glance, he crossed his arms and stared at Sodapop. "What's going on?"

"Ponyboy said he'd call tonight…he didn't. He said he was feeling sick earlier…what if something happened to him?"

"Johnny's with him." Dallas reminded him, not looking convinced himself.

"Shit, Dallas, just call him!" I snapped, my hand slamming onto the coffee table. He turned to me, wide-eyed and almost mad, and I jumped to my feet. "He told Soda he'd call and he hasn't…something's wrong. You know he wouldn't lie to Soda…not now." The guys were all staring at me with varying degrees of worry, but I ignored them, my eyes on Dallas. "Please, Dal. Just…call him." He sighed, rolling his eyes a little, then grabbed the phone from the table beside Darry's recliner.

"It's long distance." He warned Darry, a wry look on his face. Darry waved a hand, sitting back down on the sofa, and I joined him and Steve, all of us leaning forward. Soda stayed where he was, arms crossed, jaw tight. Dally sat in the recliner, phone to his ear, waiting as the phone rang. "It's almost three in the morning there, you know? He might…hey, man. It's Dal." There was a voice on the other line, but I couldn't make out any of the words. Soda came closer, leaning in, but he looked pretty frustrated so I didn't think he could hear either.

For a minute, Dally was quiet, but then he rubbed a hand down his face. "Yeah? Johnny got him home, though?" Sodapop glanced over at Darry who was staring straight at our buddy, not hardly blinking. "Yeah, alright…do you think he needs a doctor?" Darry jumped up then, holding out his hand.

"Let me talk to him." He demanded, and Dally started to shake his head. Darry looked real mad, though, and even though Dally might be able to hold his own against the oldest Curtis brother, he seemed to know better than to try it at the moment.

"James? The kid's brother wants to talk to you." There was a pause, and Dal grinned a little. "Yeah, the big one." Darry managed a half smile but got serious as soon as he grabbed the receiver, jerking his head, and Dally jumped up, giving him back his chair.

"James? This is Darrel Curtis. Where the hell's my little brother?"

 **Thank you for reading :) I hope you enjoyed the new chapter.**


	25. Reluctant Helpers

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. This is my first chapter writting in the POV of an OC, so hopefully you all like it :)**

Reluctant Helpers

I was on the phone with my buddy when Johnny burst through the door. I'd been expecting those kids and had been sticking around to make sure they got home, not that I much cared. Still, Dallas Winston had gone to jail for me, and we'd pretty much grown up together, so I figured I owed him. If he wanted me to keep these kids safe, then I guess I'd do it. I didn't have to like it though. The kids were behaving themselves so far, keeping out of trouble, so when the older one crashed through the front door half carrying the blond one, I found myself dropping my chin to my chest, not surprised…just tired. I needed to get to work, but this shit was probably going to take some time.

"Hey, T. I ain't gonna make it to work tonight." I told him, cutting him off in the middle of a conversation about whatever it was he was rambling on about.

"What the hell do you mean, man?"

"I need you to cover for me. I'll take your shift another time."

"James…"

"I owe you one." I hung up, putting the phone back on the hook and crossing my arms as I watched the kids struggle. "The hell happened to him?" I asked the older one…Johnny. The kid's head was bleeding…it looked like his side was too. The kid told me that he'd fallen off a ladder or something equally stupid, and I sighed, heading over and trying to give him a hand. The kid was shaking, and his skin was hot, so he had a fever, which figured. He was grabbing for the blankets, but I knew we needed to get his shirt off.

The kid didn't want his shirt off and fought us, weak fists flying. "Stop, Dally!" The kid yelled, shoving at me, his fist hitting me on the shoulder. It didn't hurt much. Still, I felt my temper flare, hands balled into fists as I forced myself not to grab him. I didn't want to hurt the stupid kid…if only _he_ knew that.

"Will you stop hitting me? I ain't Dally!" I snapped, then paused when he shrank back. He was scared, shaking as he tried to get away from me. He was sick…sicker than I'd thought before, and I was yelling at him. Feeling kind of like a jerk, I took a deep breath. "Shit, kid. It's James, okay?" I told him, talking quieter and ignoring the other one, Johnny, who was watching me all of a sudden. "I ain't gonna hurt you. I just want to get your shirt off and see why you're bleeding."

"James?" The kid rubbed at his eyes like a toddler waking up from a nap. A memory surfaced then, and I shoved it back down. This wasn't my brother…this was some kid crashing on my couch. "Where's Dally?" He asked. His buddy answered, reminding him that Dallas was back in Tulsa, even though I'm sure I wished our friend was here in New York as much as they did. "Johnny, I'm supposed to call Sodapop." The kid moaned, sounding worried.

"The hell…how hard did he hit his head?" I asked, trying to get a closer look. It wasn't bleeding bad…well, his head wasn't anyway. His side was another story, but did the kid have some kind of brain damage or something? Or was he trying to say something else?

"That's his brother's name," Johnny told me.

"Sodapop?" I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Right. Whatever." I had more important things to deal with. "Get your shirt off kid, then you can call your brother." He stopped fighting me then, letting me lift up his arms, and the other kid helped me get his shirt off. The bandage on his side was bloody…he must have hit it or reopened something when he fell.

I grabbed a bottle of alcohol and hurried back to the couch where the kid seemed to be out of it. Johnny was keeping him upright against the sofa, and I pulled the bandage on the kid's side out of the way. It wasn't bleeding too bad, but it was a deep cut. Probably needed stitches, but I sure couldn't take the kid to the hospital. If I needed to do it myself, I would…I wasn't great at it, though. The kid arched his back, mouth open like he was about to start screaming, but no sound came out. I clenched my jaw and admitted to myself that this kid was awful tough.

Suddenly his friend frowned, moving his hand to the kid's shoulder and sitting him further up so his head fell forward, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Shit…" Johnny mumbled, eyes going real wide. I put down the rag I'd been using to clean him up, glancing at his back and freezing. Johnny stammered for a minute, head shaking, and I cut him off.

"A belt." I told him, feeling the anger in my own voice that I couldn't control. The hell kind of guy had this kid been living with? Holy shit, this was bad. His back was crisscrossed with red welts that went from the nape of his neck all the way down as far as I could see to the top of his jeans. No wonder the kid had been so scared when I'd snapped at him. "Someone belted him. More than once." I told Johnny, touching the kid's back as lightly as I could. There were old welts and new ones all crossing over one another, and I gave a long, exhausted sigh.

I cleaned up his arms next. There was row after row of burns, old and new, all familiar. My old man had given me one or two, but never this many…the kid seemed to fade in and out, his whole body shaking from the fever, I guessed, or how bad all this hurt. His buddy asked him a few times if he was okay, and the kid would mumble, or just ignore him. I wanted to see how high his fever was, but I figured we ought to get him cleaned up first.

When I was done with his side and his arms, I left to grab another washrag, soaking it in cold water, then returning to find that Johnny had gotten him to lay down. He was shaking, and Johnny pulled a blanket over him. He stilled a little when I lay the washcloth on his head. Resting a hand on his shoulder for a second, I glanced over at Johnny who sat beside him on the floor. "Fell off a ladder, huh?" I asked, and he rubbed a hand over his eyes, nodding. "Did you get fired?"

"No…our boss was pretty nice about it." I hummed, then headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I dropped a straw in the glass, bringing it back to find Johnny with his eyes closed, his head against his friend's leg.

Kneeling down beside the kid's head and trying not to wake Johnny, I held the straw to the kid's lips, remembering my brother again as Ponyboy drank, gulping it down as fast as he could until I pulled it away. "You're gonna make yourself sick, kid. Slow down." I urged, pushing his hair back, then pulling my hand away when Johnny opened his eyes. "Here." I murmured, putting the straw back to his lips, and he drank a little more slowly. "There you go, kiddo. Johnny? You might as well try and get some sleep. Both of ya need to sleep."

Johnny nodded a little, pulling his blanket nest he'd made on the ground over next to the couch where he seemed to immediately fall asleep. The kid, too, seemed to have fallen asleep, and I dropped into my chair, closing my eyes and wondering how long it would be until I fell asleep. Instead of sleeping, though, I found myself thinking no matter how much I tried to stop. Thinking about a kid with messy black hair whose cigarette burns I'd cleaned up plenty of times…who'd hid behind me when the belt had come down on both of us. Who'd crawled into my bed when it stormed.

The phone rang, jerking me awake. Apparently, I _had_ fallen asleep. I glanced at my watch…past three in the morning. On the floor, Johnny groaned and rolled over, apparently too tired to remember why he was laying so close to the couch. Ponyboy didn't stir. I groaned aloud, pulling myself to my feet and grabbing the phone, blinking tiredly. "What?" I snapped, wishing I'd thought to turn the light off.

"Hey man. It's Dallas."

"Good timing. Something happened to the kid." I told him, not in the mood for small talk. There was silence, and I figured he wanted me to go on. "Apparently he fell off a ladder at work. Got hurt…hit his head. His side, too. He had an old cut there and it was bleeding.

"Yeah?" Dally asked, sounding worried now. "Johnny got him home, though?" He asked.

"Yeah. About had to drag him here, though. The kid's out of it."

"Yeah, alright…do you think he needs a doctor?"

"Don't know, man. He's asleep now. Not like I can afford it. He's sick, though. I don't…"

"James?" Dallas interrupted. "The kid's brother wants to talk to you."

I lifted an eyebrow, even though he couldn't see me. "Brother, huh? The big one?"

I heard the grin in his voice when he answered. "Yeah, the big one."

"Great." I waited as he passed the phone over, then winced a bit at the booming voice in my ear.

"Where the hell's my little brother?" He sounded big, all right. Probably a football player or something. I still wasn't so sure that he hadn't been the one to do this to the kid. I mean, the kid swore he hadn't, and the other one said so too, but they could still be covering. That booming voice reminded me too much of my old man, and I felt my hackles rise. Still, this guy sounded pretty worried about the kid, and I had to admit, he might have a reason to be worried. Sighing, I dropped my head back against the sofa.

"I'm assuming this is Darrel."

"Darrel Curtis. Yeah." He bit out.

"Your little brother's on my couch…asleep. The other kid too."

"What's wrong with him? Let me talk to him."

"Can't man…I ain't about to wake him up. He ain't doing too good. Besides, it's past two in the morning." On the ground, the other one stirred a little, rolling over to hide his face from the light.

"I want to talk to my brother. Now." He growled. I could tell he was the kind of guy used to getting his way and I lowered my voice, not wanting to wake the kids.

"He's sick, man. Don't worry, he'll be fine."

"Don't give me that shit! I don't even know you! You have any idea what this is like? You got a kid brother relying on you?"

"Not for about two years," I told him quietly, hating it, but knowing I'd have to tell him if he was going to get that I'd look after the kid…and maybe not just for Dally. On the sofa, the kid was still asleep, and as far as I could tell, so was the other one. His blond hair poked out from under the blanket and I stared at it for a moment. There was a long moment of silence, then the guy on the other line swore, sounding tired. "He was younger than yours, but not much. Had just turned thirteen."

"Shit." Darrel sighed, sounding kind of sick as he lowered his voice. "Man, I'm sorry…"

"You sure as hell didn't do anything." I snapped a little and then sighed. "This one's got a hell of a fever. Fell off a ladder and hit his head. Opened up an old cut on his side too, but we put alcohol on that and his arms. Nothing much to do about the marks on his back, though. They ain't infected or nothing."

"What marks on his back?" The guy demanded.

"The kind you get when some asshole belts you," I admitted, knowing he wouldn't accept anything but the truth for an answer. The guy swore again, this time sounding like he might start crying, and I clenched my jaw, shaking my head. This wasn't what I'd wanted to tell him. Hell, the kid sure didn't want anyone to know.

"I ain't gonna let your kid brother die on my sofa. If he needs a doctor, I'll figure out a way to get him to one."

"I can send you some money." The guy offered. "Just…let me know. I'll figure out a way to get it to you. I can send it through Dal…you ain't gotta give me your address or nothing."

"Don't worry about that right now, man." I'd take care of it. If he needed a doctor, I'd figure it out. This guy had enough to worry about.

"I don't even know where he is…"

"Good." I reminded him. "Keep you from doing something stupid like coming over here. The kid will be fine. I'll call Dally if he isn't."

"No, call me…or my brother."

"Sodapop?"

He hesitated. "Yeah…how'd you know?"

"The kid told me about yous two. Apparently, you're 'not so bad.' You're big and roof houses and the other one has a weird name like the kid and works at a filling station."

Darrel laughed a little, sounding strained. "Yeah, a DX. You got a pen? I'll give you the numbers."

"Sure thing, man." I agreed, grabbing a pad of paper and writing down the numbers he told me.

"He's asleep?" He asked once I'd written them down and put them by the table where the phone sat.

"Yeah. Johnny brought him home. About had to drag him. Kid was out of it. He fell asleep on the sofa a while ago. Got him to drink some water. I'll try to get him to eat in the morning."

"Alright…can you get him to call when he wakes up?"

"Yeah. And I'll call if anything changes."

"Thank you, James." The guy murmured, and I sighed.

"You got it, man." With that, I hung up, looking down at the kid for a minute. He was sound asleep, the blankets pulled up to his chin. Leaving him alone, I dropped into the chair again, closing my eyes.

When I woke up, the kid was still asleep. I grabbed a glass of water again, putting the straw to his mouth and shaking him a little until he took a drink. "There you go, kid." I muttered, patting him on the shoulder. "You awake?" I put the back of my hand on his forehead…still hot. He didn't stir, just shivered under the blankets. Grabbing the bottle of aspirin, I pulled out two, crushing them and letting them dissolve in the water. Holding the glass up to his mouth, I started pouring it between his lips, patting him again when he wrinkled his nose. "I know, kid. Just drink it. It'll help." He did as I asked, swallowing the bitter water, then laying his head back against the pillows.

Johnny woke up after about an hour at eight, his eyes immediately going to Ponyboy. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he half crawled over to his friend, touching his forehead like I had. For a minute, his hand rested on his friend's head, then he grabbed his shoulder. "Pony?" He asked, shaking him a little. The kid didn't stir, just shivered a little under the covers.

"I gave him some aspirin and got him to drink some water."

"Yeah?" He shook Pony again, obviously worried. "Pony? You okay?" He didn't answer. Didn't even shiver again.

"Try to get him to eat something later." I told him. "I've got to get to work. You gonna be okay with him?"

"I gotta be at work by seven."

"I'm off at four. I'll come right home."

He was quiet for a minute, then nodded. "Thanks."

"Sure, kid. I'll bring some food back for him. You too." Johnny nodded, and I hurried into my bedroom, changing into a pair of black pants and a white button up shirt. Johnny didn't even glance up when I left, shutting the door quietly behind me.

My buddy was waiting for me by the door, his arms crossed, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. I dropped the one I'd been smoking on the way onto the pavement, stomping it out. "I owe you one, Terry."

"You're damn right." He snapped, throwing his own onto the ground, stomping it out with his sneaker. "What the hell happened to you? We're short enough with Sam leaving!"

"Had some stuff to take care of." I tried to brush him off, but he wasn't having it. He moved, blocking the door, his eyes going from angry to almost worried. He talked a tough game but we'd been friends since we'd been in diapers, so he couldn't hide much for me, or me from him, unfortunately.

"What's going on with you, man?" He asked, moving in close like someone was listening.

"I just got some stuff…don't worry about it." I tried to go inside again, but his next words stopped me in my tracks.

"This about those kids Dallas Winston sent?"

"The hell you know about them?" I demanded, wheeling around.

"Ed might have mentioned it." He admitted.

"Ed needs to learn to shut his damn mouth."

"Someone mess with 'em?" He asked, still looking kind of worried.

"One of 'em's sick." I gave in, crossing my arms. "Fell off a ladder at work."

"Which one?"

"The younger one."

"How old is he?" He asked, real quiet, and I fought the urge to break his jaw.

"Fifteen." I ground out. He didn't answer, just humming a little. I knew what he was thinking, but he was smart enough not to say it. "And don't go spreading it around that they're staying with me. They gotta lay low."

"Whatever, man." He was quiet for a second. "He gonna be okay?"

"Don't know…he might need a doctor."

"You need money?"

"Nope. Just gotta get to work. I'll take one of your shifts when he gets better."

"Alright." He shrugged, and I figured he'd drop it, but a few hours later, when I was flipping a burger and he was pouring fries onto a plate, he turned back to me. "You sure nobody's messing with 'em? You know we'll back 'em up."

"Far as I know." I answered shortly, putting a bun on the grill. Our boss slipped by, calling a waitress over who grabbed a tray from him. Slipping behind him, another one grabbed a burger I'd been grilling and throwing it on a tray. "Want to let me finish cooking that?" I rolled my eyes, grabbing another one, and she didn't deign to respond.

"Know where they're working?" Terry asked, pulling a basket full of fries out of the grease.

"Nope."

"What are they doing?" He asked, dropping another basket into the hot oil and jumping back when the frozen fries spit grease everywhere.

"Stock. Some grocery store."

"Not bad." I grunted, putting the food on the plate.

He left it alone for the rest of our shift, and I grabbed three burgers and a sack full of fries to take home. "How sick is he?" My buddy asked as I was heading out, lifting an eyebrow as he undid his apron.

"I don't know…pretty sick. I ain't a doctor, man."

"Yeah?"

"He hasn't woken up in a while…not since last night, far as I know. The other kid's keeping an eye on him."

"Heard anything from Pete and his guys?"

"Nope. They're staying on their side of town and we're staying on ours."

"Yeah? How long you think that'll last."

"A long time if they know what's good for 'em."

"Yeah, and we've got two extra guys if we need them!" I snorted.

"The little one don't weight a hundred pounds soaking wet. Doubt he's much good in a fight. The older one ain't much bigger. Shorter too. Besides, he ain't in no condition to be fighting. Probably won't be for a while." I held up the sack of food. "Better get this back to the kids, man. See you around. And remember, keep your mouth shut."

"Sure." He called, probably about to say something else, but I was already heading home, waving over my shoulder and hoping he didn't go mouthing off to nobody.

When I got back, Johnny was sitting in my chair, his hands clasped in his lap, his jaw tight. He looked up when I came in, eyeing the sack in my hand, then gesturing with his head at the kid. "He hasn't woke up but once…won't stay awake." He told me, his voice weak, wide-eyed and obviously scared. "He, uh…he's still real hot. Keeps asking for Darry and Sodapop." The kid was covered up to his neck by a blanket, his blond hair messed up like he'd been tossing and turning, a cold rag on his forehead askew and almost covering his eyes.

"Grab me a glass of water and some aspirin," I ordered, putting the sack down and moving over to the kid's side. His forehead was hot even under the wet rag, and when I shook his shoulder, he just groaned. I took the glass and the aspirin from the kid. "Get him up." I ordered then, and Johnny helped his friend sit up against the sofa, putting an extra pillow behind his head. I knelt down, tapping him on his flushed cheek, and after a minute he blinked a little, staring at me tiredly. "Hey kid, wake up for a second, will ya?"

"Mhm." He mumbled, shivering and trying to grab the blanket. I pullled it up over him.

"Swallow these." I wasn't sure if dissolving them was making them less effective…either way, he swallowed them after I coaxed him, pouring water into his mouth. "Try to finish the glass." Johnny was watching me, looking confused. "What?" I demanded, sounding more irritated with him than I was.

"Just, uh…you're good at that."

"Used to take care of my little brother," I explained shortly, not about to have a heart to heart with this kid.

"Oh…" Johnny didn't ask, and I didn't give him anything else. "Kid? Hey, Ponyboy?" I pat him on the cheek again and the kid groaned, glaring at me a little. I grinned. "Can you eat something?" He shook his head, closing his eyes again.

"Okay." I stood up, letting him lay back down. It wasn't good but I couldn't force-feed him. "You want to eat something, Johnny? I got burgers." I jerked my head toward the bag and he grabbed it with a grin.

"Thanks. I can pay you for 'em."

"They're free, kid." He paused, staring at me. "I work at a diner." I elaborated, rolling my eyes.

"O…oh." He glanced down at the bag, then back at me with that same wide-eyed look. The kid looked like a damn owl. "Oh."

"Yeah." I sighed, dropping into my chair.

"Oh…that's why you never eat." He muttered. I lifted an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked, snorting a little.

"Nothing…just…Pony said…he never saw you eat."

"He did, huh?" I chuckled, rolling my eyes and remembering my little brother for a minute. Sounded like something he'd say. I ignored the thought, grinning at the kid. "Everybody's gotta eat, kid. Now go eat something. I'll watch this one."

Johnny must have inhaled his food because he joined me after only about ten minutes. "He hasn't hardly woken up at all. I got him to drink some water…I don't know if he needs a doctor or something."

"He's gotta eat if he's gonna get better. Think you can get some soup from that grocery store? That should be easy for us to get him to drink."

"Yeah…I can do that. He likes tomato soup."

"Sure, get that. You work at a grocery store…they'll have enough kinds to choose from. Get more aspirin while you're at it."

Until Johnny left for work, we both sat pretty quiet in the living room. After about an hour, I went into my room and grabbed the radio, turning it on low and ignoring the surprised look Johnny gave me as long as I could. Finally, I rolled my eyes again. "What, kid?"

"Just…didn't know you had one." He hesitated. "Got a TV in there too?" He asked, trying to peer past me. I snorted.

"Nope. Didn't want to pay for cable. You can keep the radio in here if you want though…until the kid gets better."

I grabbed another cold washcloth and replaced the one on the kid's forehead, then got him to drink more water. Johnny left at six, probably getting to work way too early, but I figured he needed something to do. While he was gone, I coaxed the kid into drinking water every hour or so, kept the cold washrag on his head, and kept trying to get him to eat. Giving up on the burger, I dug through my cabinets but didn't come up with any soup. He rejected the sandwich too, groaning and throwing his head to the side when I tried to coax him.

At eight, when I figured his brothers back in Oklahoma would be home, I called their house, sighing when I thought about the long distance charges. I figured it would be worth it…if it were my kid brother, I'd want whoever was watching after him to call me too.

"Hello?" It didn't sound like the big one…guess it had to be the other one…or maybe one of their friends.

"This one of the Curtis's?" I asked.

"Nope. Matthews."

I sighed, wondering how the hell I was gonna keep track of all these people. "The hell are you?"

"This James?"

"Yeah." I waited.

"I'm a friend. Name's Two-Bit. The kid there?"

"Any of you got normal names?" There was a long silence and I figured he wasn't gonna answer. "He's asleep," I told him, letting it go.

"Still?" He asked, dropping the tough act for a minute.

"Where are the brothers?"

"Darrel had to work late. Soda's out with his buddy Steve. I promised to man the phone if he went out for an hour or two. He's been sitting by the phone all day…about to go nuts." There was a pause. "He okay? Ponyboy?" I sighed. Why were so many people asking me that? I wasn't a doctor! Still, I decided to be honest.

"Can't get him to eat. Can barely get him to drink anything. He's taking aspirin but the fever hasn't broken. He ain't bleeding anymore, so that's something." The guy on the phone grunted, and it sounded like he said something else, but I couldn't make it out.

"He likes tomato soup…mushroom too." He told me, his voice just barely there.

"I sent the other one to get soup when he gets off work."

"Good." He hesitated, then went on. "He likes cherry coke. Hard-boiled eggs are his favorite for breakfast. That and chocolate cake." I snorted.

"Giant Darrel Curtis lets his little brother eat chocolate cake for breakfast?"

"Sure." He was quiet for a minute, and when he spoke again, his voice had gone real quiet again. "Right after their parents died, Sodapop asked if they could have cake for breakfast. Their mom made the best cakes, and Sodapop made one just like hers. Pony wasn't eating real well…his brothers were kind of desperate. Kid was losing weight, getting sick...Dar said fine, and ever since, we've all had chocolate cake for breakfast." I grinned a little.

"So, eggs, tomato and mushroom soup, and make a chocolate cake if I can." He chuckled on the other line.

"Sounds about right. You're lucky it's him and not his brother staying with you. Sodapop eats his eggs with jelly." I about gagged.

"That's disgusting."

"Yeah…Pony's still asleep?" He clarified, even though I'd just told him. Apparently, this kid was everyone's little brother.

"Yeah, he is. Just wanted to tell Darrel that nothing's changed much."

"Thanks, man."

"Sure. I'll call back if he wakes up and can talk." Dropping the phone on the receiver, I drummed my fingers on my leg, then picked it up again, dialing quickly. It rang for a few minutes, then a familiar voice picked up.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, T."

"What's up, man? Need me to work another shift?" He asked dryly.

"You got any soup?" I asked, ignoring the comment.

"What?"

I rolled my eyes, dropping my head back. I needed more sleep…and more alcohol. "Soup. It's a food, usually in a can, and…"

"I know what soup is. Why the hell…"

"Do you have it or not?"

He hesitated. "Yeah…"

"What kind?"

"Umm…chicken noodle, I think. Maybe some tomato."

"Be a pal and bring 'em both."

"The hell do…"

"The kid won't eat nothing and he needs to if he's gonna get better. I ain't gonna wait around for the other one to at back past eleven. Just bring a couple of cans over, would ya." My buddy gave a long sigh on the other line.

"Yeah. Fine. I'll be over in a few." I hung up without thanking him. I was acting weird enough…no need to freak him out even more. Glancing over at the kid, I pointed a finger at him. "You ain't dying on my couch, kid, so don't even think about it."

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	26. Intruders

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I appreciate all of them! I hope you enjoy the new chapter.**_

 _Intruders_

I was laying on my bed, flipping through a novel that Ponyboy had lent me when I heard the bed in the other room squeak. Putting the book down on the blanket beside me, I sat up, waiting for the next squeak before jumping to my feet. Mom was at work, which was nothing new, so it was just me and Keith. She'd been working all-nighters at the bar for weeks now. I guess we needed the money…or maybe she just liked to spend all her time with that guy she was seeing…she'd met him at the bar. Slipping out of my room and into the hallway, I glanced around, then headed to the room across from mine.

"Where are you going?" I chanced the question, leaning in Keith's doorway. He'd been bumming around the house with his door closed all day, and I wondered if he was drinking or just reading his dirty magazines I wasn't supposed to know about. These days, he was just as likely to snap at me as to answer. He hadn't been like this before…but he hadn't drank so much before either. I knew him and the rest of his friends were all real worried about Pony, who'd been taken away from his family almost a year ago. Keith had assured me that Ponyboy was okay…that he wasn't dead, despite what the girl in my class had told me, but things were still tense.

Everyone had been talking about Ponyboy since he and Johnny Cade had almost killed a rich guy from across town in the park. I didn't get many of the details…no one wanted to give them to me. It wasn't like a bunch of older guys were going to gossip with their buddy's little sister…still, I listened whenever I could. I was scared to ask Darrel or Sodapop directly…I knew Darrel had punched a hole in his wall, and I think I'd heard that he'd hit Ponyboy before he'd taken off, so even though he'd always been nice to me, I was worried about making him mad. As for Sodapop, I was scared to make him sad. He loved Ponyboy more than anyone else, so I knew he probably didn't like talking about all this. So even when I did happen to tag along with Two-Bit on one of his trips to Darrel and Soda's house, I tried to keep my mouth shut. He'd take me there sometimes for dinner when we didn't have any food in the house, and they were nice enough, but no one ever brought up their brother.

As for Sodapop, I was more scared to make him sad. He didn't usually get violent, but he loved Ponyboy more than anyone else, so I knew he probably didn't like talking about all this. So even when I did happen to tag along with Two-Bit on one of his trips to Darrel and Soda's house, I tried to keep my mouth shut. He'd take me there sometimes for dinner when we didn't have any food in the house, and they were nice enough, but no one ever brought up their brother.

Before, when Ponyboy had been home and I'd been at their house, he and I had talked sometimes about school or the books we were reading. He'd lend me ones he was done with, or I'd ask him about school work. I figured the others teased him about talking to a girl, but he was always nice to me. Out of all of them, he was the closest to my age, only a year older, and we'd always gotten along pretty good. He was a whole two grades ahead of me, though, since he was real smart, but I still saw him around school sometimes. I hated that they'd taken him away from his family. I knew him and Darrel didn't always get along, but they were a family and they loved each other.

"None of your business," Keith answered, but he didn't sound mad, so I took a step into his room, looking around quickly for beer bottles…or whiskey bottles. Once I'd snuck into his room and drank some of his whiskey. It had made my head feel funny, and I'd gone right to bed, sleeping through the night and pretty far into the next day. I'd woken up to him shaking me, asking if I was sick or something, and I'd assured him that I was fine, hoping he wouldn't smell it on my breath. He'd never said anything, but afterwards all of the bottles had seemed to disappear. It had been gross anyway.

"Are you going to Darry and Soda's house?"

"None of your business." He repeated with a grin, reaching out and messing up my hair. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" I shrugged, rolling my eyes.

"It's summer. I don't have to get up or anything. When's mom getting home?"

"Probably after three." He pointed a mock-serious finger at me. "You'd better be in bed when she gets here." I just rolled my eyes.

"Why? She don't care." I grumbled a little, dropping onto his bed as he grabbed his wallet off his bedside table. His black-handled switchblade was on the bed beside me, and I slipped it under my leg. It was a game we played sometimes…I'd see how long it took for him to realize I'd taken it. He always won.

"She does too. She's just busy." He admonished, stopping to touch my hair again. "You already eat?" I shook my head and he sighed a little, running his hand through his hair.

"We don't have anything." That wasn't strictly true…there were a few cans of vegetables in the pantry, and probably enough bread for toast. But nothing good. Keith sighed, looking mad for a second.

"Alright. I'll get some money from Mom and go tomorrow, okay? Here." He opened the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a chocolate bar.

"Thanks." I muttered, turning it over in my hands.

"We'll go to the store tomorrow, okay? Hey…" He reached out, grabbing my chin and pulling my head up. "She probably just forgot to go shopping."

"She's too busy with Tom." I grumbled, crossing my arms, and he paused, then knelt down, his hand on my leg.

"She brought him around here?"

I wanted to lie, but I knew he'd see through it. I was a crappy liar, at least with him. "Yeah…just once." His eyes turned dark and stormy. "He didn't touch me or nothing," I assured him. Once, one of our mom's boyfriends had backhanded me when I'd told him to get his own beer, and Keith had found me in my room an hour later, still huddled up on my bed.

"The hell…what happened?" He'd demanded, sitting on my bed and grabbing my face carefully. "Who did that?" When I'd told him it was the guy asleep on our couch, he'd stormed into the living room, grabbing the guy by the collar and holding his blade to the guy's throat.

"You ever touch my little sister again, I'll slit your throat, you get me?" He'd yelled, probably waking up half the neighborhood, then throwing the guy out the door. Then he'd pulled me along as he'd hurried down the street, throwing the Curtis's door open without knocking.

Back then, their mom and dad had been alive, so he'd been quiet, putting me on the couch and waking Darry who'd taken one look at me and then gone with Keith in the kitchen. That man had never come back. I had no idea what they'd done, but I didn't much care, as long as he never bugged us again. The next morning, their parents had made us all breakfast, never asking what we were doing there, and Pony had lent me an Agatha Christie novel.

"Tell me if he does, you hear?" Keith told me, squeezing my shoulder, and I shrugged, still upset with him for snapping at me so much lately.

"Yeah, if you're ever around." He gave me a look, standing and putting his hands in his pockets.

"I'll be back late. If you need anything, Darry should be home, okay? If it's an emergency and you can't reach him, call over at Buck's for Dally. You got the number?"

"Yeah." He held out a hand, grinning when I continued staring at him, wide-eyed and innocent.

"Hand it over, kiddo." I sighed, rolling my eyes and holding it out.

"What if I need it?"

"For what? Opening that candy bar?" He tapped me on the head with the handle. "We'll go to the store tomorrow."

"Promise?" I asked, standing up from his bed. He put his hand on his heart, his other in the air.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Stick a needle in your eye!" I cried, lunging at him and poking at his face. He grabbed me, laughing out loud for the first time in what felt like years. Pulling me up and swinging me around until I was riding on his back, he carried me into my own room, then dropped me on the bed so that I bounced a few times, laughing.

"See you tomorrow, kid." He called as he left my room.

"Okay!" I yelled, laying back on the pillows, then, when I heard the front door slam, I jumped back up, grabbing my nightgown and heading to the shower. I made sure to keep the hall light on and mine too, even though I wasn't scared of the dark. Only babies were scared of the dark…I just…preferred it to be bright in the house. Especially when everyone was gone. Back when I was little, Dad would hide in the dark hallway, jumping out at me and making me scream before he'd carry me around on his shoulders, me giggling and screaming until Mom told us to hush. The thought made my chest tight and I wiped at my eyes, putting my face under the hot spray of the shower.

I turned the light out and all but sprinted to my bedroom, then jumped into bed as soon as I shut off my bedroom light. Once I'd gotten under the blankets, wet hair and all, I closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep as fast as possible. I hated sleeping in an empty house. I was too old to be scared of the dark or anything stupid like that, but I still hated being alone at night. I tossed and turned for a while, pulling the blankets tight around me, and was almost asleep when the front door opened.

I jumped out of bed once more, opening my bedroom door and grinning into the darkness. "Forget something?" I asked, waiting for my big brother to come sweeping out from the darkness. Maybe he'd decided to stay home with me after all. More likely, he'd forgotten something, money or something for whatever card game they were out playing. Or maybe it was pool they were playing tonight. Either way, maybe he'd stick around for a few minutes and I'd feel better being alone in the house.

Instead, a huge hand landed on my shoulder, another going over my mouth and muffling the scream as whoever it was forced me to turn around. That wasn't Keith. Keith didn't do things like that to me…he never tried to scare me like that. I felt myself held against someone…a man, taller than me and bigger than Keith as we moved back into my bedroom. It wasn't any of his friends…Darry was big like that but he'd never try to scare me or get rough with me. Dallas was bigger too, and sometimes he'd mess with me, scaring me, but never for more than a second, and never rough like this guy. None of them would ever hurt me. No…this wasn't a friend.

"Well who's this?" I screamed against his hand as another one stepped forward, his face nothing but shadow in the dark hallway. I tried to stab at him with my elbow but his other hand pinched me in a place that made my cheeks get hot and my eyes start to water. "Now now…settle down, sweetheart. We just want to ask you a few questions. If my buddy here moves his hand and you scream, he'll stick that knife in your back." The hand not on my mouth moved and something cold tapped my throat. I wished more than anything that I'd been able to keep Keith's knife. I'd stab him in the gut! "You understand there, sweetheart?" No…I'd stab him in the eye! Then I'd leave him and let Keith and his friends finish him off.

I nodded to his question, clenching my jaw hard. The hand moved very slowly off of my mouth and I stayed quiet, my breath coming out in shaky almost wheezes as I fought tears I didn't want to cry. Not in front of these assholes. I wanted to be tough and mean like Dallas. Big and scary like Darry. Anything but tiny and weak, a little girl these men could do whatever they wanted with.

"There you go sweetheart. Now, where's your big brother, huh? Where's Keith?"

"He ain't here." I mumbled, hating how hot my eyes were. A tear escaped then, and a sob followed. The hand on my shoulder squeezed, almost friendly, and I jerked away, hating him more than I'd ever hated any of our mom's boyfriends.

"Yeah? Where is he?" He asked, like he was asking about the weather…like he broke into people's houses and threatened kids all the time. Heck, maybe he did.

"I don't know." I told him, fighting the tears back now, so scared I was almost numb. I didn't know...not really. I mean, I knew lots of places where he could be. I mean, there were bars around town, or maybe even Buck's. It might just be Dallas there, though. Or I could send him to the Curtis house…but what if he had a gun and hurt Darry?

"Okay…what about Ponyboy Curtis? Where's he?" I frowned, trying to show real surprise around my tears.

"He…he's gone. He disappeared! Everyone says he's dead!" I told him, trying to wriggle away from the man behind me, but he held on, squeezing too tight now. The guy in front of me came closer.

"Disappeared, huh? So, nobody's talked to him? You haven't talked to him?" The guy holding me squeezed even harder and I whimpered.

"No! He's gone…dead! They said he was dead!" He touched my neck with the knife again, cold metal against my hot neck, and I froze, but he didn't cut me. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against my throat.

"Gone, huh. You sure nobody's talked to him?"

"I'm sure. I don't know anything about it! Keith just came home and told me he was dead and he was real upset and so were his brothers but I don't ever talk to them and…" He cut me off, the hand around my throat tightening. I managed to gasp before the fingers cut off my air. My eyes got so wide I thought they'd pop out of my head, and the man behind me rubbed my arms, too close to my chest. I prayed that Keith would come back then. He'd take one look at these guys and stab them with his switchblade! He wouldn't let them hurt me!

The guy leaned in, his breath smelling like cigarettes as he talked right in my face while I fought to breathe. All I could do was make an awful gasping noise, and my head swam. "You sure you're telling the truth? You sure your brother hasn't heard from that kid? Hm?" I tried to nod but the hand on my throat wouldn't let me. I managed a noise in the back of my throat as I fought for air, my fingers coming up to the hand and scratching. Two hands rubbed over my belly from behind then, and I brought my knee up as hard as I could, slamming it into the guy's crotch. He let me go, backing up with a high pitched groan, and I turned around before the other guy could react, making my hand into a fist just like Dallas Winston had taught me and swung, getting the other one right in the nose, feeling a satisfying 'crunch' when it made contact, gasping for breath but too afraid to care.

Before either one of them could recover, I scrambled out of the room, throwing my front door open, then slipping as I jumped off the porch, gasping when my ankle turned a little, but I kept running anyway. My hands shook too hard to work the latch of the gate, and for a second, when I heard our front door open, I thought they were going to get me. I screamed, managing to yank it open and running through it.

I slipped on the wet concrete as I crossed the road, crashing to the ground and scraping my cheek and hands on the asphalt. I barely felt it around the terror that they would grab me again. I was sure that any second, a hand would close around my ankle and drag me back to that house. Crying out, I pushed myself back upright, my bare feet struggling to find purchase on the wet ground. The rain poured down, soaking into my nightgown, and I slipped again, glancing over my shoulder. It was a compulsion…I had to know if they were following. They weren't…there was no one behind, waiting to grab me. Instead, the two men stood beside their car, one of them climbing inside, the other clutching his nose. I grabbed the gate outside of the Curtis's house, pulling it open and slipping again on the stairs, cracking my cheek against the stairs and crying out again. My whole body shook as I clawed at their doorknob with shaking hands. Slamming my fists against the door like a heroine in some stupid dramatic movie, I glanced over my shoulder again. Still by the car. Still watching. That was worse somehow.

"Darry! Darry! Help!" I screamed, almost falling on my face when the door was yanked open. Two huge arms caught me as I fell forward, grabbing me by my upper arms and holding me upright. "Help me…help!" I sobbed, staring up into his wide eyes. "Please…Darry, help!" Pulling me into the living room and pushing the door shut with his foot, he knelt down a little, trying to get a good look at my face. I felt blood dripping down my cheek and could taste it in my mouth, and I was sure that my jaw was already bruising...my neck too, but I didn't care.

"Susan?" He asked, incredulous. "Hey, Susie…easy." He urged, one hand running up and down my arm. I was shaking, but I didn't know if it was because I was scared or because I was so cold. Tears were pouring down my cheeks, mixing with blood, but I couldn't stop. Shaky, sobbing noises escaped from my mouth but I couldn't stop those either. "What happened?"

"Where's Keith?" I almost screamed it, even though I was trying to keep my voice normal. Apparently, I couldn't control anything. I knew my brother wasn't there, but I had to ask anyway.

Darrel kept his voice quiet and gentle. "He ain't here, honey. He's out with Sodapop and Steve." He pushed a strand of wet hair out of my face and I flinched a little. That man had done the same…so nice and gentle stroking my cheek at first…but this was Darrel Curtis. He wouldn't hurt me. "Come on, Susie. Come sit down." He tried to steer me over to the sofa, but all I could see was that big window. I jerked away, not managing to pull away from his grip of my arms, but he stopped pulling on me.

"No! They're still out there!" I screamed it. I didn't know why I was screaming, but I couldn't stop, and I realized I was still crying.

"Who?" He asked, putting a hand on my uninjured cheek. "Who's out there?" He demanded softly.

"They're out there…they'll followed me."

He glanced out the window into the darkness, but there was no way he could see outside. Suddenly there were footsteps in the kitchen and I froze, about to make a break for it, but he caught me, hands rubbing up and down my arms. "Easy, Susie. It's just Tim." As if on cue, Tim Shepherd poked his head into the living room, lifting his eyebrows when he caught sight of me. He had chocolate on his mouth, and I fought the urge to laugh, sure it would come out sounding shrill and hysterical. Tim wasn't the nicest guy, but I knew he was sort of friends with Keith, so I tried to relax a little, taking a long, shuddering breath. He ran the back of a hand over his mouth, lifting an eyebrow.

"Hey, kid. What's going on?" He asked, obviously taking in the cut on my face. I looked back at Darry who was crouching in front of me.

"They'll get in and…" Darry shook his head.

"Ain't nobody coming in here, kiddo." He gestured to Tim who pulled back his jacket, revealing a pistol tucked into his jeans at his hip. It was weird that the sight of a mean hood with a gun would make me feel better, but I relaxed immediately, doing my best to take a breath that wasn't a sob.

"That's right, kid. I ain't gonna let anyone getcha." Tim assured me, his face softening a little.

"Now what happened?" Darry asked, real gentle as he kept his hands on my shoulders.

"They came into the house." I told him in an almost whisper. "I thought it was Keith…Mom's at work and I thought…they came into my room." Tears were falling down my cheeks and I didn't bother wiping them. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, and Tim crossed his, leaning against the wall. I couldn't keep talking for the shaking, and after a second, he reached out, wrapping his arms around me. "They came into my room…" I sobbed into his shoulder and he patted me on the back, standing after a second and leading me over to the sofa where he sat beside me, holding me again.

"Who?" He asked quietly, his hand rubbing up and down my back. I was freezing, but he was warm, and a mean hood with a gun was standing guard, so I didn't worry as much about the people outside. Still, I grabbed the back of his shirt as tightly as I could, soaking his shirt and hoping he didn't mind. He didn't seem to, just patting my back as I spoke into his shoulder.

"I don't know…I don't know who they are. They asked me where Keith was…told me they needed to talk to my brother." I didn't want to relive it, but if I told Darrel he could tell Keith and I wouldn't have to say it again. I didn't want Keith to know what a baby I was being.

"You haven't seen them before?" I shook my head against his chest. "Did they say anything else?" He combed his fingers through my hair, easing it out of my face, but not pushing me away.

"They asked me where Ponyboy was." I tried to stop crying, hating how my breath shuddered and my hands shook. "I told them I didn't know. I told them I thought he was dead…cause he's supposed to be dead, right?"

"Yeah." He murmured, sounding strained. "He is."

"I know he's not, but I told them that he was…I was scared they were after him. They didn't believe me. Asked if I'd talked to him…or if anyone had. I told them no." I reached up, touching my neck. "He put his hands around my throat…said I'd better not be lying. I couldn't breathe." I sniffed, leaving out the other thing they'd done and wiping my eyes.

He pulled away just a bit, touching my throat, and then the cut on my face.

"They do this to ya?"

"No…I fell trying to get over here."

"How'd you get away?" Tim Shepherd asked, leaning in the doorway of the living room, that gun still showing.

"I kicked one of 'em, and punched the other one in the nose when he tried to grab me." I hoped I'd broken it…heck, I wished once more that I'd had Keith's knife so I could have stabbed him in the eye.  
Darry grinned a little, pushing my hair back. I suppose I should have been embarrassed to have the handsome guys seeing me in my wet nightgown, but I didn't care "Good job, kiddo." Tim complimented me, then headed over to the window, peering out into the darkness. After a second, he shook his head. "What kind of car were they driving?"

I shrugged a little, sniffing again and wiping at my eyes, feeling kind of like a baby, but also aware that my throat hurt and my ankle and my knee too, from where I'd fallen, and I was sore all over and still shaking. "I couldn't see…I just ran out as soon as they let go of me. I think it was blue."

"Looks like they're gone." He informed us, closing the curtain, and Darry patted my leg.

"Alright, let's get you into some dry clothes, okay honey? You're soaked. I think something of Ponyboy's might fit. Come on." He urged, pulling me up. I let him, wishing I could stop shaking. He didn't seem to mind, just leading me into the bathroom. He really was a good big brother, almost as good as Keith. "Let me get you some clothes, and you can go ahead and jump in the shower. You need to warm up. I'll try to get ahold of your brother. Once you get out, we can take care of this." He gestured to my face. "Your leg too…you hurt anywhere else?"

"I don't think so." I told him, lying a little, but it wasn't like he could do anything about that. He steered me into the bathroom, then disappeared into another bedroom, coming back with a pair of black sweatpants and a grey t-shirt that he left on the sink, closing the door firmly behind him when he left.

I stayed in the shower too long. I could vaguely hear him and Tim talking, and I put my hand in my mouth, sobbing as I leaned against the shower wall. They'd come into my house. They could have…they could have done anything to me. I wanted my brother. I wanted him to stay home when Mom wasn't there so I wouldn't be so scared. I wanted Mom to stop working so many nights and leaving me alone all the time.

I didn't know how long it was, but the water was starting to cool off when someone knocked on the door. "You okay in there, honey?" Darry called, and I swallowed hard, sticking my face under the water and hoping it took care of my red eyes.

"Yeah. I'm getting out!" I called, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to dry off. Pulling the dry clothes on, I wrapped my hair in a towel, peering out of the bathroom before stepping out. Darry was on the sofa, a first aid kit on the table, and I headed over to join him, sitting down and keeping my eyes on my feet. He reached out, touching my chin and it reminded me so much of Keith that my eyes got hot again.

"You feel okay?" I just nodded. "Alright. I called Two-Bit…he's on his way over."

"Is he mad?" A strange look passed over his face, sadness and regret and something else, but he shook his head, smiling a little.

"Nah. He ain't mad…at least, not at you. Just awful worried. Here." He pulled out a cotton ball and soaked it in alcohol. "This is gonna sting." He warned, then pressed it to my cheek. I flinched, but it wasn't so bad. After he cleaned it and put something on it, he put a Band-Aid on my cheek. Next he pulled the leg of my sweatpants up…no, not mine. Ponyboy's. I thought about asking if Ponyboy was okay, but I remembered the hole in the wall and decided not to chance it. "You had dinner already?" He asked, holding one of my hands and cleaning it with the alcohol cotton ball. I had barely realized how bad I'd scraped then, falling down on the street so many times.

"Keith gave me a candy bar." He looked up, lifting an eyebrow. I shrugged. "Mom forgot to go to the grocery."

He looked upset about that, but his frown disappeared after a second. "Yeah? We've got some chicken left over. You want a plate?"

"No thanks." He put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing real gentle.

"Alright, kiddo. Let me know if you change your mind." I nodded. "Two-Bit should be here soon. You want to lay down?" I shook my head, and he grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa, wrapping it around me, and I curled up against arm of the sofa, fighting not to close my eyes. "We'll be in the kitchen, honey. Call if you need anything." I'd sort of forgotten about Tim, but I was glad he was there. Nodding, I pulled the blanket as tight around me as I could and kept an eye on the front door.

 _ **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**_


	27. Cross Your Heart

**Thank _you to everyone who has read and reviewed! I appreciate you all so much. I hope you enjoy the new chapter :)_**

 _Cross Your Heart_

The girl shivered on our couch, despite the blanket I'd put around her, and I glanced over at Tim who was watching her as closely as I was from his spot at our kitchen table. Two-Bit had decided to go out with Steve and Soda, partially to get Soda out of the house and partially because they all needed to stop waiting by the phone all day. He'd been cutting back a bit on the drinking, but we were all tense, waiting for James to call about Pony. Or, even better, for Pony to call. So I could understand him needing to cut loose a little. I just hoped he kept a handle on himself. Soda too...he didn't drink all that much, except for a few months ago on Pony's birthday, and that hadn't gone well. Heck, I kind of wanted to take a few beers out of the fridge and let loose myself. But we needed to get Pony back, and for some reason, it was like if I didn't think about him all the time, and if I didn't stay focused, it wouldn't happen.

Pony was awful sick according to James. He had fallen off a ladder and James was taking care of him but he was sick and I wasn't there. James had promised to call if anything changed the day before, and he had yesterday. I hadn't been there, though. Two-Bit had answered and had told me later when I got home that there wasn't really any change…Pony was still sick and still unconscious. I couldn't think about it, though…not until he called again. I figured if he didn't call by the next day, I'd have to get Dally to call…I'd make him put my brother on the phone. I had to talk to him. That had been on my mind all day at work, up on a roof, doing my best to focus on my job and failing. Pony was sick. I wasn't there. I had no idea how bad it was…how sick he really was. What if he didn't get better? It had been so long since I'd seen him...what if I never did again?

No. That was ridiculous. I couldn't think that. Not with him so far away and me stuck here, not even sure where I could find him. I couldn't risk it even if I knew where he was. I couldn't risk leading anyone to him, or anyone finding out where he was. Besides, my boss wasn't about to give me that much time off, nor could we afford it. The bills had to be paid whether or not my little brother was sick. And I knew Pony needed rest if he was as sick as James said. I didn't want to risk him getting worse just cause I wanted to talk to him so bad. But if he was still this sick in a few days, I'd have to figure out how to send some money…probably through Dallas.

I'd called the place where Soda and Steve had taken Two-Bit while Susan had been in the shower...some bar across town. Not the best place to hang out, but better than Buck's where I assumed Dallas was. Soda knew that I worried too much when he went to Buck's…it seemed I heard of someone getting stabbed there every week or so. Bad enough Pony had gone there once…I didn't want either of my brothers anywhere near that place, especially not Ponyboy. He was too small and too quiet and I kept remembering how those socs had held him down with a knife to his throat…how he'd cried on the sidewalk after we'd saved him and how he'd pulled away from me. Of course, it always had been Soda who could comfort him…I was never as good at it as him. Maybe I was too rough…or maybe he just didn't like me as much. I didn't want Sodapop at Buck's either, though. He was reckless and sometimes spoke before he thought, and the last thing I needed was him getting jumped at that place.

I didn't want Sodapop at Buck's either, though. He was reckless and sometimes spoke before he thought, and the last thing I needed was him getting jumped at that place. I knew Steve and Two-Bit were with him, but if they got cue sticks or blades and it turned into some kind of brawl, one of them could really get hurt. If something were to happen to Soda right now...glory, I needed to stop worrying so much.

I'd told the guy that answered that I needed to talk to Sodapop Curtis and he'd given my brother the phone after a minute of yelling into the crowd I assumed was there. "Hey, Darry. What's going on? Did Pony call?" I'd been glad he hadn't sounded drunk but had to strain to hear him over the music in the background. He practically had to yell.

"Is Two-Bit with you?" I'd asked loudly, cutting him off as Tim had lifted an eyebrow from across the room, his eyes going back to the hallway where we could hear the shower running.

"Yeah…what's going on?" Sodapop had sounded worried then. I'd glanced over at the bathroom door where the girl had been for almost twenty minutes. A dark thought had crossed my mind but I pushed it away. The girl would be fine…she was upset but I didn't think she'd do anything drastic.

"Tell him to get over here…all of you need to come home."

"What's wrong, Darry?" He'd demanded then. I didn't want to tell him. He was worried enough about Pony and the guys that had thrown a rock through our window…now this! But the girl needed her brother. I knew her well enough, but I knew she wasn't gonna be okay until Two-Bit came back.

"It's Susan…some guys broke into Two-Bit's house and…"

"Is she okay?" Soda had cut me off. We didn't know the girl all that well…Two-Bit didn't bring her around too much. Sure, there were days when she followed him to the house, back when she was younger and couldn't stay alone. Every once in a while he'd bring her for dinner and the guys would all be on their best behavior. At only just thirteen, I didn't think she ought to be staying alone all night, almost every night. I'd certainly never left Pony alone all night, not even at fourteen.

On the rare night after our parents had died that I had to work that late, or once when I'd spent a weekend out with my friends, I made sure Sodapop stayed home with him. Pony might have thought I was being overly protective, but I knew if someone got it in their head to come into our house, I needed someone else to be there. Still, no matter how I disagreed with Two-Bit and even their mother's style of taking care of Susan, it was none of my business…until she showed up on my doorstep, shaking and crying and bleeding and begging me for help.

"She's pretty shaken up…got a couple of cuts and bruises too, but I think she'll be alright."

"We're on our way."

In the kitchen, Tim sat with his arms crossed, keeping an eye on the bathroom door. Our friend had been hanging around our side of town around more and more recently. He never said why, just hanging out and eating cake and reading my newspaper…playing cards with us and watching our TV. Sometimes Curly would come, which I hated because he always reminded me of Ponyboy. The two had hung out sometimes…not just burning themselves with cigarettes either. They did other dumb stuff…Pony was usually the voice of reason from what I could tell though. Sometimes they'd be gone all day, out by the railroad tracks or sneaking into movies…Curly was a lot tougher than Pony, though. Meaner, too, and he always had my brother's back, even if he was the one that got Ponyboy into trouble a lot of the time.

Tim's guys kept an eye out when they were closer to that side of town and our guys did when they stayed over here. I figured Tim was keeping an eye on us now, with those guys after us, but it looked like it wasn't just us they'd be after. I'd never thought they'd go after some girl that Pony had rarely even talked to. Guess they didn't know that though. "She's alright?" He'd confirmed. I had shrugged.

"Yeah, I think so." I'd told him, glancing again at the bathroom door. He had his own kid sister, even though his was about Soda's age and could pretty well take care of herself. When she'd finally emerged from the bathroom, she'd had red eyes swollen from crying, even though she was obviously trying not to let on. I hadn't called her out, cleaning up the cuts on her face and hands, and the scrape on her knee. She hadn't fought me, but I knew it hurt and tried to make it quick, finding myself taken aback when she'd told me that she'd only had a candy bar for dinner and that her mother hadn't gotten groceries.

They didn't have enough food. That thought had hit me hard as I'd offered her some dinner. Sure, money was tight sometimes, especially after our parents had died. Sometimes we'd had to scrimp a little, making smaller meals and making due with hand-me-downs clothes, Pony especially, but glory, we always had food. I made sure of it. My little brothers wouldn't go hungry. Ponyboy had money for lunch and Soda had food to take to the gas station or money to buy something. We always at least had bread and bologna in the house, and even though Ponyboy hadn't eaten much when we'd first lost our parents, we'd made sure to have enough food in the house in case he wanted anything.

Two-Bit knew this. He'd known that we always let our friends come over to eat when they needed to. He could have brought Susan anytime and we would have found enough food for her. Hell, he had sometimes! Looking down on the shaking girl on our sofa, I felt a wave of anger both at Two-Bit and at their mother. The girl had been left on her own, no food in the house, no one to protect her, and I knew that Two was doing the best he could but he let his mom work all the time and didn't even offer to chip in and…it was none of my business. I shoved the thoughts away, shaking my head a little and looking back at Tim who was still watching the girl. Regardless, from then on, I swore I'd keep a better eye on the girl. She wasn't my blood but she was just a kid, and my friend's little sister and she deserved to have someone looking out for her.

I'd tried to get the girl to sleep but she wasn't having it. Instead, Two-Bit's sister huddled on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her, eyes drooping as she tried to stay awake. I wanted to offer her food again, but I doubted she'd take it. Sighing, I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, placing it on the table beside her. She glanced at it, then up at me. After a second, she reached out and took a drink. "You sure you don't want something to eat, hon? A sandwich or some chicken…" I hesitated for a second, then smiled. "Chocolate cake?" She glanced up at me again with a hesitant smile.

"Ponyboy told me…" She paused then, glancing at the door, then at the ground, shrinking against the sofa. "Sorry."

I knelt down, my hands clasped as I crouched beside her. "What are you sorry for?" I asked, keeping my voice quiet.

"I know…I know that you miss him a lot." My eyebrows lifted in surprise and I reached out, dropping a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, kiddo. I miss him something awful. Doesn't mean you can't say his name around me. What did he tell you?"

"Um…he told me that you let him eat chocolate cake for breakfast…I was jealous." I grinned.

"Well, in the morning, _you_ can have chocolate cake for breakfast. Heck, you can have some now if you want it." She started to answer when tires squealed outside.

The door hit the wall when it opened, probably making another dent, and Tim had his gun out and pointed at the guy standing there so quick I almost couldn't follow. I stood up from where I was crouching beside the girl, then stepped out of the way when I saw who it was. Two-Bit and Sodpop stood in the doorway, both soaked from the rain, my little brother's wide eyes on that gun, Two's on his sister. I grabbed Tim's shoulder, making him point the gun away from Soda while Two-Bit ran over to his sister, dropping to his knees and grabbing her. Tim put the gun away while she threw her arms around his neck, her face in his shoulder. He sat down on the couch, her in his arms as he held her, murmuring something I couldn't hear from where I'd moved to the other side of the room.

"Shit…" Sodapop whispered, looking at me. Steve was right behind him, nodding to Tim and trying not to stare at the siblings on our couch as he shut the door behind them. I reached out and grabbed Soda's shoulder, pulling him closer for a second. He gave me a weak grin when I squeezed him. "They do that to her face?" He asked quietly.

"No…she said she fell running over here." He nodded, leaning his shoulder against mine for a second.

"Hey, Dar…" Two-Bit's voice was rough, but his eyes were dry, his jaw clenched when he stared up at me. The girl kept her face hidden in his shoulder, arms around him, and he rubbed her back. "Think we can crash for tonight?" I nodded immediately, but it was Soda who spoke up.

"Susie, you can sleep in my old room if you want. Two, you want the sofa?"

"Sure. Thanks, man." He reached down, shaking her a little. "Come on, honey, let's get you to bed." We all cleared out to the kitchen while he got her up, walking her into the room Sodapop used to sleep in. Tim stood against the counter, the rest of us sitting at the table, all of us waiting for him to come back out. I couldn't hear anything from the other bedroom, but Two was in there for a while.

When he finally came out, he dropped into a chair, then jumped up, throwing the refrigerator door open, grabbing a bottle of beer, then dropping into the chair again. Instead of opening it, though, he left it on the table, his head in his hands. After a minute, Steve reached out and grabbed it, pulling his knife out and using the bottle opener to pop it open, then took a swig. Two-Bit looked up, giving him a halfhearted glare, but Steve just shrugged. "You weren't going to drink it." He reasoned.

Tim moved before any of the rest of us, grabbing Two-Bit before he could tackle Steve. Steve jumped up, Soda right behind him, both of them backing away. I started to grab Two-Bit but Tim had it handled, pushing him back into his chair. For a minute, there was a long tense silence. Then Two-Bit reached out, grabbing the bottle of beer from the table and throwing it against the wall. We all flinched, our faces all turned away. "He went after my sister." He told us, his voice barely a whisper. "He went after my baby sister." His fist hit the table so hard I was afraid he was going to break it, and I steadied it, glaring at him. No way he could pay for a new one, and I couldn't either. Soda spoke up before I could, though.

"We need to call that cop…Officer Charlton." I knew Steve was still disgusted at the idea, but I agreed.

"Do you want me to go ahead and call, Two?"

"What the hell good will that do, huh?"

"Someone broke into your house and attacked your sister."

"And what's the fuzz gonna do? When is he gonna do something about this guy, huh? Whose next? My mom? Steve's dad?"

"They can have him." Steve deadpanned and I fought the grin. I could tell Two-Bit was too, but he shook his head after a second.

"He's gotta get proof…it would be better if one of those kids would testify. But the guys already said they wouldn't." Two reminded him.

"What about the girl?" Two demanded.

"We've tried catching up with her, but she don't spend much time outside…not that I've seen." Tim put in. "Besides, I doubt she's gonna talk. I never saw her and the kid together…doubt they were close. She's gonna split as soon as she can, and we'll never see her again. His wife sure as hell ain't gonna talk and his buddies are all in it with him." Tim shook his head, hands shoved in his pockets. "We'll keep an eye out, but I don't know how we're gonna get anyone to talk."

"We'll figure it out, man." Steve told him, patting Two-Bit on the shoulder. "In the mean time, we'll keep an eye on Susie, okay? She'll be so sick of us hanging around she'll start locking the door."

Two-Bit grinned, reaching out and squeezing Steve's arm for a second. "Yeah, she can come to the DX with us." Sodapop spoke up. "We'll teach her how to fix cars…she can fix that old truck of yours." Two-Bit snorted.

"When she's sick of that, Superman can teach her how to roof houses." I rolled my eyes, laughing. Man it felt good to laugh. For just a second, I forgot about my sick little brother, alone with just Johnny and some stranger to take care of him.

"Yeah, that's what we need…let's put the girl on a ladder."

"Then we'll send her with Dally to the races."

"Oh hell no." Two-Bit laughed, and even though it was shaky, he was dry-eyed. "Dal ain't taking my sister to that hell-hole where he lives!"

"Why the hell not?" We all jumped, Tim's hand on his hip where the gun was hidden, and Dal followed the movement with a brow lifted, his grin dropping.

"For the love…will you lock your damn door, Darrel?" Tim demanded and I jumped up, pushing past Dallas to do just that. We never locked our door, but everyone was here…I'd probably just need to get Two-Bit, Steve, and Dal a copy of the key.

"What's going on? Why can't Susie come visit me?" He asked with a smirk, looking between all of us once I was back in the kitchen.

"Couple of guys broke in to Two-Bit's house. Roughed her up." Steve told him, all of us quiet, the laughter forgotten.

"The hell…where are they?" He demanded. "Why didn't you go after them?"

"Darrel and I were the only ones here." Tim informed him. "Not like we could just leave the girl by herself again." Two-Bit flinched, but Tim either didn't notice or didn't care. "They scared her to death, man."

"She okay?" He asked, looking at Two.

"I don't really know." Two-Bit admitted. "She's pissed at me…I don't blame her, really."

"She was scared, man." I reminded him. "Those guys hurt her…"

"Because I wasn't there." He finished for me, hands tight in fists again. "Because I left her alone. Again. Even though I knew there were people after us. She's only thirteen and they could have…"

"But they didn't." Soda reminded him, glancing over at Dally. "They roughed her up, but she's gonna be alright."

"Damn it…" Dally murmured, arms crossed as he glanced over at Tim. "They let her go?" He confirmed.

"Naw, man. She punched one of 'em and got away." Dal nodded, then glanced over at the doorway, grinning.

"Thumb outside your fist?" He asked, and we all turned to find the girl in the doorway, shrinking back from us. She grinned a little when Dallas did, though, holding up her fist, the one with bruised knuckles.

"Yeah."

"Right here?" He tapped his own nose on the side. She nodded again.

"Yep."

"And the other one? Where I taught you?" She flushed a little but nodded.

"Hard as I could."

"Good girl." He walked over, ruffling her hair like he would Pony's sometimes, throwing an arm around her shoulder. She looked tiny in Pony's clothes, the shirt drooping off her shoulder.

"When did you teach her how to fight?" Two-Bit asked with a grin. He reached out his arm and she moved to stand beside him.

"I gave her and Ponyboy a ride back from school one day. After you kicked out that creep your mom was dating. He helped too…let her punch him." Soda snorted.

Two-Bit glanced over at the girl standing beside him. "You're a fighter now, huh? How come you didn't tell me?"

"Cause you weren't home." She told him, her voice quiet, and we all went kind of still then. Two-Bit swallowed hard, reaching up and patting her shoulder.

"It ain't gonna be like that no more, honey." He told her softly. "You ain't staying alone no more." He glanced over at me, like he was asking permission for something, and I nodded. We sure had the room if they needed it. We'd make room.

"You ain't gonna tell Mom…" She trailed off. He glanced at me again.

"We gotta call that cop. He'll probably talk to her. But that don't matter. If I can't stay with ya, you're gonna stay here, okay? Somebody's always here."

"That's right, kiddo. We ain't using that old room." Soda put in.

"Wasn't it…I mean…it's Ponyboy's, right?"

"Naw. Me and him shared a room. That's just a spare room."

"We got plenty of chocolate cake." I told her, and she grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"We're gonna look after you, kid. Nobody's gonna bug you." Dal put in, arms still crossed. She nodded.

"Hey…" Two tapped her on her arm. "I mean it. You ain't gonna be home alone anymore. I'll look after you. All of us will." He's said the same thing to my little brother after his fourteenth birthday. I'd woken up to find him sobbing into Two-Bit shoulder, our friend rubbing his back and promising that they'd all look after him. I'd leaned against the wall in the kitchen, listening to my little brother sob that he wanted our mom and dad back and had just about cried myself. I wanted them back too. So much. Every day. "Cross my heart, hope to die." Two-Bit went on, grinning a little at his sister. She glanced at the fridge, then at the floor where the shattered beer bottle still lay, but didn't say anything. Reaching into his pocket, he took her wrist, pulling her hand toward him. She held it out, and he put the black handled switch into it. Her eyes widened, meeting his as he curled her fingers around it. "And if one of those guys ever gets close to you again, honey, you go ahead and stick this needle in their eye."

 _ **Thank you so much for reading :) I hope you enjoyed the new chapter.**_


	28. Sick and Tired

**_Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. I really appreciate all of you. I hope you enjoy the new chapter!_**

Sick and Tired

Someone held something to my mouth and I tried to push them away. Couldn't they just let me sleep? I couldn't remember ever being this tired. My brain felt like mush and my eyes were so heavy, I couldn't even think about opening them. "Don't look like he wants it." An unfamiliar voice sounded like they were laughing, and I wished they'd keep it down.

"Shut up, would ya? If you ain't gonna help, you can beat it." Someone else snarled, and a few minutes later there was grumbling and a door slammed. "Come on, kiddo. Two-Bit said it was your favorite." I groaned, confused. Two-Bit? Was Two-Bit here? Glory I felt awful, but I missed Two-Bit so much…I tried to open my eyes and find him, but my eyelids were too heavy. I didn't want to miss Two-Bit...where was I? At the house? No...my brain did its best to catch up. I didn't live with my brothers anymore. I lived with...a foster family. Had he come to see me?

"Two-Bit?" I asked, turning my head. "Two-Bit!" I called for him, and a hand landed on my shoulder.

"He ain't here, kiddo. It's James. I talked to him on the phone. Said you liked tomato soup. Try and eat some, okay?" I frowned at that.

"James?" Richard was the foster father. That's what the social worker had told me before I'd even gotten to the house. And Mark and Tyler were the other boys in the house...my foster brothers. But not my real brothers. So who was James?

"Yeah." The guy told me. I kept my eyes shut, curled up on what felt like a couch, which was weird because I didn't sleep on a couch at that house. I never even went into the living room.

I shrank back into the couch a little, not able to figure what was going on. James. Did I know a James? There was only one reason I could think of that I'd be feeling this bad…Richard. Maybe James was a new foster kid. "Is Richard here?" I asked, making my voice quiet in case he was around. The hand on my shoulder moved away for a second.

"The hell is that, kid? You got too many friends for me to keep track of."

"What did I do?"

"What do you mean? You didn't do nothing."

"Is he here? I gotta get up."

"Nope." The hand on my shoulder returned, holding me down. "Now who's Richard?" There was a long pause. "Richard the one that put those cigarettes out on your arm? The one that belted you?"

"I wasn't smoking…" I couldn't remember the last time I'd smoked. The guy sighed.

"Yeah, I know." A hand pushed my hair back, no longer restraining since I couldn't get up anyway.

"Soda?" I asked, my voice breaking. Was it him? Was my brother here with me? It didn't sound like him, but was what Sodapop did. He always sat with me like this when I was sick. "Soda?" I reached out for him, and a hand caught mine. "I don't feel good, Soda."

"I know, kiddo. Here, drink this, okay? You'll feel better." The voice was tired…but it wasn't Soda. It wasn't mean though. Just tired and sad.

"Where's Soda?"

"He's back in Tulsa, kiddo. You're in New York." New York...I'd never been to New York before. But I was there now...was my family with me? Had it all been a dream? Richard and Mark and Tyler...and Rita. Lianne? Why would I dream something that awful?

"I want Soda." I told the guy with me. I wanted my brother. Either of them...but mostly Sodapop.

"I know. You'll have him back soon, okay. Promise. Now drink this. Then you can go back to sleep." Sighing and doing what the guy asked, I drank the soup, closing my eyes as soon as he stopped bugging me. It seemed like only a few minutes later I was drinking more water and taking more pills, and then I was drinking something else. Soup. Tomato soup. Mom and Dad always gave me soup when I was sick. Was I sick?

I woke a few times, feeling awful when someone sat me up and put something on my side or on my arms. Once or twice, I heard the radio on real soft in the background and wondered where I was, but I was too tired to get up and figure it out. Richard never played the radio. Sometimes the TV, but usually, unless Mark or Tyler were playing the radio in our room, Richard's house was silent. It always made my hair stand on end.

I dreamed about my brothers in between someone making me sit up and, holding a spoon to my mouth over and over as I drank something. I guess it was soup they were making me drink. It all tasted the same. A cold cloth was draped over my forehead most of the time, and I alternated between shivering and shoving the covers off. I think Johnny was with me sometimes. He'd push my hair back like Soda did, and I started coughing at some point, going on until I couldn't catch my breath and Johnny or somebody would help me sit up, patting my back until it finally stopped. In my dreams, it was Darry or Soda that helped me sit up, their arms around me as they told me I'd be alright. I didn't really get sick much but when I did, my family would take care of me. Mom would make soup and sit on the bed with me, and when I was little, she'd read me books in bed.

Once when I was older, probably twelve, I got pretty sick, and Mom sat with me all night. I guess it must have been pretty bad, because Dad kept saying something about a doctor and they'd kept my brothers out of my room for a day or two. I'd coughed a lot then too, wheezing and gasping for breath in between fits. Mom made me soup and Dad had sat on the bed with me, running his hand through my hair and promising that I'd feel better soon. The next day, when I'd been barely awake, Darry had come in, sitting down and asking how I was feeling. The day after, he'd brought me a bag full of books from the library and a milkshake. Sodapop and him had stayed in my room that day, playing cards with me until I'd fallen asleep. That was what I wanted to remember.

The worst was when I dreamed they were with me, all three of us with Mom and Dad in the kitchen, me eating soup and Soda beside me, telling some kind of story about Steve in school. Darry sat on my other side, laughing at the story and keeping an eye on me. I couldn't figure out why he kept looking at me. I wasn't the one telling the story. Dad walked behind me, his hand on my shoulder, asking me something. I frowned, trying to look up at him, but I couldn't understand. "Eat?" He asked, shaking my shoulder, but I glanced over at Darry. Wasn't I already eating? I looked down at the table but there was nothing there, and I looked back up and they were all gone.

"Dad?" I called, and the hand on my shoulder squeezed a little.

"It's Johnny, Pone."

"Johnny?" My breath came out in a harsh sigh, which made me start coughing again. He sat me up until I could breathe again, rubbing my back. Of course, it wasn't my dad. He was gone. They were both gone, and Darry and Soda were so far away and I just missed them all so much! The dreams just made it worse…made me think for a second that we were all together again and that everything was oaky. "What's going on?" I asked, leaning against him. I couldn't even sit up...my entire body felt boneless and weak.

"You're sick, man. You better eat some soup. Got some aspirin too." I mumbled an okay and tried to eat what he gave me, drinking the water and downing the Aspirin. I tried to ask what day it was but fell asleep before I could.

The next time I woke, someone was sitting me up and taking a bandage off my side. I dropped my head back against the sofa and tried to push the hand away when they held a burning rag to my side, but I couldn't manage it. "Johnny?" I asked.

"Nope. He's at work." I blinked a few times, finally managing to open my eyes. "There you are, kid. Was starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up."

"Why?"

"Cause you've been asleep for days."

"What about work?" I asked. Didn't I have a job now?

"You can go back when you feel better."

"Oh…" I managed to focus on him, blinking tiredly and then looking down at my side.

"What happened?"

"You don't know how you got a huge cut on your side?" He asked, a skeptical eyebrow raised. I was too tired to come up with a lie.

"Knife."

"Same one that cut your face?" I sighed…I hated that scar.

"No. That was a broken bottle." He hummed, putting the bandage back. "I was running from some guys…one got me with a knife. But I thought it was fine."

"You hit it when you fell, I guess…opened it up again. It was getting infected anyway."

"I put alcohol on it. My face too."

"Yeah, I know. But it's pretty deep…needs stitches, but nothing we can do about that now."

"Oh…sorry."

"What the hell are you sorry for, kid?"

"I don't know…getting sick." I admitted.

"Well, it ain't your fault, but I forgive you I guess." I had to smile a little at his tone. He stepped back when the bandage was back on my side.

"What day is it?" I wondered. "How long have I been asleep?"

"It's Thursday night, so about three days. Johnny just went to work."

"Oh…am I fired?"

"Nope. Your boss said not to come back until you were better. Doesn't want you falling off any more ladders." I vaguely remembered that. "Your big brother called Monday night. Apparently, you were supposed to call and they freaked out."

"Shit…I was supposed to call Soda back after work!"

"Yeah I know. He made Dallas call me so he could find out what happened. I talked to your brother for a while…some guy named Two-Bit too. They're all pretty worried. I promised to keep them updated, but I think even Darrel is getting bored with 'he's still asleep.'"

I grinned, but I hated that they were worried. It wasn't fair that they'd have to worry about me so much, knowing that I was sick and not able to help. "Can I call him? I mean…I can go to the payphone…" He shook his head scowling a little.

"No way you're going outside right now. I doubt you could make it down the steps on your own. The big one's probably still on a roof, but you can call the soft drink if you want." I snorted, not sure if Soda would laugh or give him a punch in the jaw over that one. I decided not to tell him as James brought the phone over to the table closer to me so I could reach. I dialed the DX, thanking him as he headed to the kitchen, but he just waved over his shoulder and I heard the fridge open.

I wondered what time it was there…if Soda was still at the station. I was too tired to do the math. The phone only rang twice before it was picked up, though, so I didn't really have time to worry about it. "DX, this is Sodapop." I grinned…I'd hoped it would be him that would answer. I missed Steve too, but nothing like how bad I missed my brothers.

"Hey Soda…sorry it took so long to call back." I closed my eyes, imagining that I was there with him…that I'd just walked into the DX and he and Steve were getting ready to close up. Maybe Sandy would be there with Steve's girl, Evie. Her and Sandy were always real nice to me, and even though Steve didn't want me tagging along all the time, he wouldn't complain or nothing when I'd come to the DX, long as he had Evie there. And Sandy would smile and ask about school and Sodapop would give me a pack of smokes or a coke and then I'd head home, leaving them to whatever they were going to do all night.

"Ponyboy?" He sounded scared, almost like he was afraid it wasn't really me.

"Yeah. Hey, Sodapop." My voice sounded awful…like I was barely awake, which I guess I was. He let out a long breath that was half laugh and half sob.

"Glory Pony…we've been worried sick." Soda sighed, sniffing a little. "Are you okay? You don't sound great, kiddo."

"I'm sick…but I finally woke up." He laughed a little, but more relieved than amused.

"Good. I'm glad. You've been sleeping too long." He paused. "Are you alright? James taking care of you?"

"Yeah, he's been great…I guess. Don't really remember much of it."

"Yeah?"

"I think I fell off a ladder at work. Opened a cut on my side. James said it was infected anyway."

"How'd you get that cut?" He asked softly.

I hesitated for a second, but I figured he might as well know. "When I was getting away…after they killed…I mean…" I sighed, running a hand over my face. I hated talking about this…hated looking at myself in the mirror. My thoughts were still muddled and I had to fight to remember it all. The night I'd gotten away. I just wanted to go back to sleep. "One of those men had a knife. They got ahold of me, and he cut me with it before I got out of my jacket and got away."

"Yeah…they found your jacket. Scared us to death, Pony. I thought...glory, we all thought...well, you know." He gave a shaky sigh, and I figured he was running a hand through his hair.

I was quiet for a minute. They'd thought I was dead. I couldn't imagine how much that had hurt. "It's kinda deep…James said it should have had stitches, but I couldn't really stop at a hospital."

"No…guess you couldn't have."

"I couldn't come to you." I told him, blurting out the words. "I just…they would have found me and you'd be in trouble too…or I would have. I wanted to. More than anything I wanted to come to you and Darry."

"I know, honey." He assured me. "If you need to go to the doctor while you're up there, me or Darry can send money."

"No way. They'd want to know who I was and then they'd send me back…" I found myself gasping a little and had to fight a cough so I could keep talking. It tickled my sore throat though. "Soda, I can't go back…"

"You ain't gonna. Don't worry, Pony. Darry's got a cop looking into that guy. Ain't none of us gonna let you go back to that house. And if you did have to, which is not going to happen, one of us would be around. Always. We know where he lives now. I'd visit every day, honey, you know it. I'd never leave you alone there, now that I know where he lives. Okay?"

"Yeah?" I knew he wouldn't lie about it…still, it was good to hear it. Some nights at that place I'd lay awake, staring at the door, and think about my brothers. And sometimes, a terrible, dark fear would slip in…what if they knew? What if they knew where I was and didn't care? I mean…Dally knew where I was. What if he'd told? What if Darry was just glad to be free of me? "You would?"

"Of course I would, Pony! Darry too!" He told me gently. "Glory, kiddo, if I knew where you were, I'd be with you right now."

"You'd get fired." I reminded him with a small smile.

"Hell, Pony, I don't care about that." He whispered. "I don't guess there's any chance you'd tell me?"

"Sorry." I murmured. "Can't. James would kill me…Dallas too, probably."

"Yeah…you're probably right."

"How are things there?" I asked, leaning back against the sofa. Just holding the phone was getting harder, and I gripped it as tight as I could so I wouldn't drop it.

"Um…they're…crap…" He said something I couldn't hear, then was back to me. "So you need an oil change? Yeah, we can do that for you."

"Well, no…I don't have a car, so…" I grinned, knowing his boss was probably in the room. "Even if I did, I'd get Steve to do it. He's way better than you."

"Right. Not a problem." I could hear him fighting laughter and tried not to laugh myself. Didn't want to give him away.

"I don't even know how to drive…well, Two-Bit showed me a little."

"Really?" He asked, sounding surprised. I knew he wouldn't get mad, and as soon as his boss left, he'd be back to normal. We'd done this plenty of times before.

"Yeah. Don't tell Darry though…he might get mad."

"He would not. And I'm way better at changing oil than Steve, you little brat." I laughed, wincing when it turned into a cough that took my breath away. I put the phone down for a second while I coughed, ignoring the voice on the line asking if I was okay until I could breathe again. "Shoot, kiddo. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." I was still gasping a little, but the cough was mostly gone for the moment. "Just a cold I guess." I sighed, enjoying being able to breathe again. "You were gonna tell me how things were there."

"Right…not too great, kiddo, to be honest."

"What? Why?"

"Some asshole threw a rock through our window on Sunday."

"What? Who?" I asked, trying to sit up and suppress the cough. James put a glass of water beside me before heading back to the kitchen and I drank some, waiting for Soda to tell me.

"Don't know for sure. Pretty sure it was one of those guys that Richard knows. Not sure who else would do it. Darry replaced the window."

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah. Me and Steve got cut up a little but we're all fine."

"Is that all?" I asked, knowing it wasn't. He didn't answer at first, but I knew he would. Soda didn't like to keep too much from me if he didn't have to.

"No…on Tuesday night, some guys broke into Two-Bit's house and got a hold of his sister."

I went still, almost dropping the phone. No. It was all I could think. Not Susan…not another girl. "She…did they…"

"They just scared her…roughed her up a little. She got away and came running over. Tim and Darry were the only ones here, and Dar took care of her. She's fine." He hurried to reassure me.

"It's my fault." I told him, my voice dull and flat.

"Oh, you told Richard about Susan?" I flinched, shaking my head even though he couldn't see.

"No!"

"Then you told him Two-Bit was your friend, and that he had a sister he left alone all the time?"

"Of course I didn't!"

"Then it wasn't your fault." He told me firmly, not mean, but serious like I rarely heard him. "That asshole came after us because he wants to hurt you. I ain't gonna let him. None of us are. We'll all keep an eye on Susie and Tim's guys are all on the lookout. Don't blame yourself for this, Pony. Not for any of it. Nothing about this is your fault. You hear?"

"Sure, Soda." I murmured, staring down at my lap, avoiding my arms, which, since I wasn't wearing a shirt, were bare, and I didn't want to see them. I didn't want to remember what he'd done to me.

"I ain't mad, kid, so you ain't gotta sound like that."

"I know…"

"We're taking care of things here, that's all. You don't need to worry about us. Just focus on getting better, okay?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Good."

I hesitated, then let myself ask. "Is Two-Bit mad?"

"At Richard? At those assholes that hurt his little sister? Hell, yeah. But not at you, Pony. Promise. We've got Susie staying here when her mom or Two-Bit are out. We ain't gonna let anything happen to her. Okay?"

"Yeah…" I murmured.

"Good. Remember that. No one's mad at you. We all just want you back, and we're doing everything we can to make sure you get back."

"I know…"

"You sound awful tired, kiddo. Why don't you get some sleep, okay? Eat something and rest. You need to get better, then we'll worry about the rest of it."

"Okay."

"If you're awake later and James doesn't mind the long distance, will you try to call?"

"I don't know if he'll let me…" I didn't want to push it by asking for too much.

"The hell are you talking about kid?" I froze, glancing up at James who was holding out a hand. "Here." He demanded

"Uh…James wants to talk to you." I told him.

"Sure. Love you, kiddo."

"I love you too." With that, I handed James the phone, my arm dropping almost limp at my side as I closed my eyes. I was so tired…

"This the soft drink?" I grinned, hoping Soda didn't get offended. James chuckled so I guessed he didn't. "Yeah. He ain't too bad…starting to get better." There was a long pause. "Yeah, I did." Another one. "Yeah, that's fine…only until he get's better, though. Then it's the payphone again." He didn't sound mad when he said it, so I wasn't too worried. Before I could listen to the rest of the conversation, I was asleep again.

James woke me up…I wasn't sure how long I was asleep this time, but it was still dark out when I woke. He had a bowl of soup that he pushed on me, handing me a spoon. "Guess you can feed yourself this time?"

"Huh?" I rubbed my eyes, staring at the mushroom soup, then nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Good." He sat down across from me in his chair, all but watching me eat. I did my best to eat a few bites, but I wasn't that hungry, so I put the bowl on the table, my eyes drooping. "You feeling okay?"

"I guess…tired."

"Figures. You're still sick, but I think you'll live." He told me dryly, and I had to grin.

"Think so?"

"Probably." He held out a bottle of aspirin. "Better take some. Your fever's lower but you don't want it to come back."

"What time is it?" I asked, trying my best to stay awake as I swallowed the pills James gave me.

"Almost ten. You slept for about four hours…figured you'd want to talk to your big brothers again."

"I can go to the payphone…" I offered. He rolled his eyes, pointing to the phone by the table.

"Shut up and call your brothers." He ordered, reaching out and ruffling my hair. I grinned, doing as he'd asked, almost holding my breath until the ringing stopped and the phone was picked up.

"Hello?" Darry. It was Darry. When was the last time I'd talked to Darry? More than a week? Since the first time I'd called? I got to talk to both of my brothers! In one day! I wanted to cry, I was so relieved. "James?" He asked, uncertain, and I smiled so big it hurt my face.

"Close." I told him, hoping I didn't start crying in front of James. Or maybe I'd already cried in front of him. "I _am_ staying with him…would you rather talk to him?"

"Ponyboy?"

"Yeah. Hey, Darry." He let out a long breath, and I knew he was grinning.

"Are you okay?" He demanded, first thing.

"Yeah…I'm better. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Yeah. My fever's down, and I woke up."

"That's better, then." He told me, laughing, but he sounded more worried than amused. "Sodapop mentioned you'd called earlier…I was afraid you'd go back to sleep for another week."

"I hope not," I told him, turning my head away from the phone when I coughed. I knew he was worried though, even though I was trying not to let on how awful I felt. He always knew, though.

"How do you really feel, little buddy?"

"Tired." I admitted. "And I can't quit coughing…can barely hold a spoon." I wanted him to be there with me! I wanted my big brother to sit down beside me and put his arm around me and tell me it would be okay! Glory, just as soon as I'd gotten used to just having my brothers, they took them away too! I wasn't alone anymore…I had Johnny, and James was being pretty decent, and I was real grateful, but I still felt alone without my brothers.

"Sounds like you were pretty sick. It's good that James was there…I'm glad he took care of you."

"Yeah, he's been great." I grinned a little at James who rolled his eyes, standing and leaving me to my phone call as he headed to his bedroom.

"Just keep resting, okay? He said you'd been eating soup…can you keep it down alright?"

"Yeah, I'm not real hungry though."

"Try to eat, Pone. You need to if you're going to get better."

"I'll try." I promised.

"Good." There was something in the background, but Darry ignored it. "Soda told you about things here?"

"Yeah…is Susie really okay?"

"She's fine. We're having her stay here when their mom's not home and Two-Bit can't be there." I could hear the disapproval in his voice…he'd never left me alone all night, even though I thought I was old enough. Still, it was kind of nice to think that he'd never leave me alone…to think that someone cared about me that much. Glory I wished I could take back every mean thing I'd ever said about him. I hadn't got it…I'd thought he hated me! How could I think that about Darry, who wouldn't leave me alone all night and who cared where I was and what I was doing and that I did well in school!? Who'd never laid a hand on me, even when he was upset and tired and frustrated and I was being a jerk…up until that last night, and he'd been so sorry.

"Good." I finally said, swallowing hard and pushing my hair back.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked then, his voice real gentle.

"I just wanna come home." I told him, closing my eyes so I wouldn't start bawling like some baby. My voice broke anyway, and I knew he could tell. I figured I was just tired, but still…I was too old to act like some little kid, crying 'cause he wanted his big brother to take care of him. But I did…I wanted that so much.

"We're gonna get you home soon." He promised softly, and I nodded, too tired to care that he couldn't see me.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. And I'm sorry about the window."

"Not your fault. We've got the fuzz and Tim's gang both looking out."

"Bet our neighbors love that." He snorted.

"They'll have to live with it, at least until this is all over and that asshole's in jail."

"Do you really think he'll go to jail?" I asked, dropping my voice so James wouldn't hear. "I mean…how are they gonna prove anything? No one's gonna testify against him. Mark and Tyler want out and Rita…" I didn't want to think about Rita. Not on top of everything else. "Well, no one's gonna say anything against him."

"Don't worry about that, kiddo. We're gonna take care of it…and if the fuzz don't, then I will." He swore, and I nodded, even though he couldn't see. "Glory, I miss you so much." He sighed. "I'm gonna get you home as soon as I can, I promise."

"Has anything else happened?" I didn't want to think about Darry trying and failing to get me home. I didn't want to think about how many nights I'd laid awake in the boy's home, praying that Darry would show up one day and take me home. Praying that Sodapop would sneak in with Steve or Two-Bit...that they'd just come visit! Surely they could visit! If I could just see their faces...just have some kind of contact with someone who loved me. Thinking that had hurt more than anything, and those had been the nights where I'd fallen asleep with my face in my pillow, hot tears soaking the pillow until I finally fell asleep...or until the sun would rise.

"Nope. We're keeping an eye out and everything's been quiet since they broke into Two-Bit's place a few days ago. The socs are quiet and those other guys haven't been around that any of us have seen. All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, alright? How was work?"

"Before I fell off the ladder, it was fine. I think…can't remember much." He chuckled a little when I did.

"Good. I'm proud of you, Pone." I went silent, freezing at the compliment. He'd never said anything like that to me…unless he was talking about a track meet. Sometimes if I won a race or something, he'd tell me he was proud of me. It was what I wanted when I brought my report cards home or cleaned the house or did good in a rumble. Glory it was the best feeling in the world...and it hurt so much that he was so far away. "You got a job at four…fifteen. You shouldn't have had to, but you did it, and I'm proud of you." I clenched my jaw, not about to start crying. Not when I finally got to talk to my big brother after so long.

"Thanks." I murmured, not able to say any more without crying.

"We're gonna find someone to testify against him…somehow. Or maybe the cop will catch him doing something…or he can put pressure on his friends. Something. We'll figure it out."

"I know you will." I meant it, too. I knew Darry would do anything he could to get me back. Because he loved me. Because he was my big brother and that's what big brothers did.

"You'd better get some more rest, Pony. You sound like you're about to fall asleep." He told me quietly.

"Yeah…" I murmured. Glory I was tired, and I felt awful. Not as bad as before, but I felt like I was about to drop the phone. "I, uh…I'm real tired."

"You're still sick and you need rest." He reminded me. "I miss you like crazy, you know?"

"I miss you too." I almost whispered.

"Get some more sleep, kiddo. Try to eat, and call me back as soon as you can, okay? Or just call the house…Two-Bit's dying to talk to you. Steve too, but don't tell him I told you that." I hummed in agreement, hating how my eyes were drooping….hating that I couldn't focus enough to talk to my big brother after so long.

"I'm sorry…"

"You ain't gotta be sorry. You're still sick. Go to sleep, okay?" He urged.

"Alright. Love you, Dar."

"I love you too, kiddo. So much. And I'll see you soon, I swear." I put the phone back on the hook, my eyes drooping as I leaned against the couch.

"Kid?" I jumped when James put a hand on my shoulder. "You asleep?"

"No." I muttered, rubbing my hand over my face. "Just tired."

"Think you could manage a shower? Probably make you feel better? You can change clothes too."

"Yeah, alright." I let him give me a hand up, managing to stumble into the bathroom where I showered as fast as I could. James came in for a second but left the room without saying anything. When I got out of the shower, I found my duffle bag on the floor. I pulled out a shirt, glad to finally be able to cover up my back and arms, and went back into the living room where I dropped back onto the sofa and fell asleep immediately, barely noticing the new sheets and blanket that James had put out for me.

 **Thank you so much for reading. I hope you liked the chapter.**


	29. Keeping Watch

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! I truly appreciate it so much. Every one makes my day :)**_

Keeping Watch

"You would?" That's what my little brother had asked me. If I would have visited him, had I known what was going on. If I would have kept him safe. Me and Darry. And I'd assured him that of course I would have. Didn't he realize that we'd been working so hard to get him back? That, every single day, Darry had called those social workers and the people at the State to try and get him back? That I cried myself to sleep most nights, missing him so bad. That I prayed for the first time since our mom had taken us to church that my little brother would get the chance to call me…that someone would let him use a phone or that he'd sneak and do it, and that I would get a moment to talk to him. That before, when the cops had found his jacket and we'd thought he was gone, I'd wanted to die.

Didn't he realize that I stayed home most nights, so desperate to talk to him, or that one day, I'd come home to find Darry sobbing at the kitchen table, the phone clenched in his fist, and that when I'd sat down beside him, putting a hand on his arm, he'd dropped the phone on the table, barely able to talk for crying. "They won't even let me…talk to him. Won't tell me if he's okay, or where he is. He'll think we don't care, Soda. He'll think we ain't even trying!"

Had he been right? Had Pony really sat in that boy's home, and then in that awful foster home, and wondered if we were even trying? It seemed like it. I wanted to find him…right then. I wanted to shake him and hug him and tell him all about how hard we'd been trying to get him back, and how worried we'd been about him...how I thought about him every day and dreamed about him almost every night. I wanted him to talk to Darry too, and let him see how much our big brother missed him. I knew those two fought sometimes, but could Pony possibly think that Darry would ever let anyone hurt him? Surely not.

"Soda?" I jumped a little, then grinned, reaching for the girl's braid. She pulled her head out of reach, swatting me away.

"Sorry, Susie." I took the plate of chicken from her and grabbed a piece, then passed it to Darry. We were all sitting around the kitchen table, her and Two-Bit, along with Dallas and Two-Bit. Dal had brought a case of cokes, and Steve had brought a pack of chicken over, tossing it to Darry who'd been rifling through the cabinets, trying to find something to cook. We needed to go to the grocery. Still, Two-Bit had brought Susie over and she'd sat on our couch, making herself small and staring at her novel. I figured it was kind of weird for her to hang out with a bunch of guys all the time, but we couldn't leave her alone anymore. Couldn't risk it.

For the last couple of days, since Tuesday, she'd been with her brother or the rest of us at all times. Two had stayed with her all day, taking her to the movies, and I wondered how long it would be until the two of them got sick of spending all their time together. I figured it would be her that would get sick of him first…he'd been scared to death when I'd told him something had happened to her. Had nearly whipped Steve to make him drive faster.

"Tim's guys been by today?" Steve asked, glancing at Two and breaking the silence. He shrugged.

"We've been out all day."

"I talked to Pony before you guys got home," Darry told us suddenly, changing the subject. He knew that I'd talked to Pony…I'd called right after and told him, but it had been kind of hectic when I'd gotten home. He'd gotten right to work cooking the chicken Steve had brought and Two had snatched a coke for him and his sister who'd sat on the couch looking pretty bored. I'd grinned, pulling her braids as I'd walked by, and she'd batted me away so much like Ponyboy would when I'd ruffle his hair.

"How did he sound?" I asked. Everyone else had stopped eating, all looking at Darry. I knew how he'd sounded on the phone with me, even though I hadn't really told Steve much. I'd just let him know that Pony had called…and that he was still sick. He sounded awful, tired and coughing too much. Hardly able to have a whole conversation with me.

"Pretty tired…I think he's still sick. He was coughing a lot…said he could hardly hold a spoon. James is taking pretty good care of him though." I had to admit he was right. James was doing a real nice thing for us, taking care of a kid that wasn't even related to him…who was just crashing on his couch because some old friend had asked him to.

"Good," Two-Bit said, taking a swig of his coke. I knew Two-Bit had talked to James too. He'd called every day, letting us know that Pony was still asleep, or that he had gotten him to eat some soup. I wondered where the guy worked…if he even did. I knew Johnny was looking out for him when James was gone…James had told us. It helped me not worry about them so much, knowing that James would look after them.

"Yeah." Darry stared at his plate for a second, jaw tight. "Hopefully he can get back to work soon." It wasn't that we wanted Pony working. But those two needed money to live, and they'd need money to get back home.

Once, Pony had asked if he could get a part-time job somewhere. It had been pretty soon after I'd dropped out of school and Darry had snapped at him, telling him he wasn't gonna drop out of school, but he'd caught himself before he'd all out told him he wasn't going to end up like me.

Darry had apologized later, telling me he hadn't meant anything by it. He'd apologized to Pony too, telling him he just didn't want Pony to worry about money, and he'd given him a dollar to spend. We'd both tried to make a point of giving him some spending money after that. A week or so later, I'd come into the living room to find Pony with Darry's wallet and had felt my stomach drop.

"Whatcha up to, kiddo?" I'd asked, worry gnawing at my gut. Surely Pony wouldn't stoop to stealing from Darry? He'd still been real quiet and withdrawn but I hadn't thought it was that bad. Not that I'd rat him out, but I'd sure have given him an earful.

His ears had turned red and he'd dropped the wallet back onto the table where Darry had left it. "Wasn't stealing or nothing." He'd snapped, glaring at the floor.

"I didn't say you were." I'd told him easily, heading over and dropping a hand on his shoulder. "What's up?"

Pony had sighed, not really meeting my eyes. "He gave me a dollar and…he can't hardly pay the bills this month. I was just giving it back." I'd smiled then, unable to help the relief. I knew he wouldn't steal from Darry or me, but it was good to have it confirmed.

"Did I ever tell you you're a good kid?" He'd rolled his eyes, shrugging me off and going into the kitchen to make breakfast. I'd helped him, both of us waking Darry up by jumping on his bed. That morning Darry had laughed, managing to get ahold of Pony and get him in a headlock, and I'd saved him by tickling Darry until he'd thrown me off the bed.

"Him and Johnny are working at a grocery store," Dally said out loud, and we all glanced over to find Susan nodding, me torn out of my thoughts again. He pointed at the rolls and she passed him the plate, then took a bite of her chicken.

"What are you two up to tomorrow?" I asked the girl, not wanting to talk about Ponyboy anymore. I couldn't stand it…not without him here when almost everyone else was.

"I'm dropping her off at the library. Dal and I are gonna meet up with Tim." Two-Bit told us, and the girl gave a sullen sigh.

"Can't I come?"

"Hell no," Dal told her, and Two gave him a look. "Heck no, then." He corrected himself, rolling his eyes, and the girl laughed at him, then crossed her arms, turning back to Two-Bit.

"Why not?"

"It's not the kind of place where you bring little sisters." He told her.

"Will there be girls there or something?" Steve lifted his eyebrows, glancing at me with a half smirk, and I fought back the smile while Two-Bit sighed.

"No. Just a bunch of rough hoods."

"I hang out with rough hoods all the time." She rolled her eyes like only a thirteen-year-old girl could. Or maybe a fourteen-year-old boy. Her and Pony were just alike sometimes. When Two-Bit lifted an eyebrow, she jerked her thumb at Dallas. "We're hanging out with one right now." Steve chuckled when Dallas crossed his arms, looking pretty pleased with himself.

"What time?" I asked, trying to help Two out and distract everyone.

"I'm meeting them at three."

"We'll come pick you up and bring you back here after we get off work if you want." I told her. She glanced at Two-Bit and it reminded me of Pony again…how he'd glance at Darry to make sure something was alright. That felt like another punch in the gut. Two nodded.

"Sure. Thanks, Soda." She grinned at me, all thoughts of tagging along with Two-Bit apparently forgotten. I just nodded, fighting to keep the smile in place. After our parents had died, Pony had started spending most of his time alone, and he'd walk to the library or the movies by himself, and Darry and I always worried. Two or Dally or even Steve would go and walk him home sometimes or give him a ride, but that day he and Darry had fought, he hadn't called anyone. He'd just gone to the movies after school and walked home by himself. I knew he wouldn't usually call Steve, but Two-Bit or Dally wouldn't have cared! They always watched out for him. Now I'd do the same for Susan and hope that my little brother was okay.

The next day after work, Steve and I headed over to the library, him driving and me staring out the window. The library was always more Pony's thing than mine, but I'd spent plenty of time there, taking him to get books for a paper or something, or getting my own stuff to halfheartedly throw something together at the last minute. Our parents had always tried to get me to try harder. I wasn't stupid or nothing…just couldn't sit still for so long, trying to learn things I didn't care about. Pony would try to show me things sometimes, and he was a better teacher than most of my own, but he was still younger than me and could only do so much. Sometimes our mom would sit down with me at the kitchen table and help, but after a full day of sitting, I could hardly stand even more sitting. For as much as Darry and Ponyboy fought, they sure were alike. Those two could sit still and read or work on homework all night while I was about to bounce off the walls. Darry would help us both with homework too, being pretty patient considering I goofed off most of the time and Pony usually got distracted by me.

All day at work, I'd stayed mostly in the station, even though I'd rather be working on cars or something. I hated being cooped up all day. Still, I wanted to be close to the phone. I knew Darry would be doing the same thing if he wasn't on a roof. Every time we'd gotten a call, I'd grabbed the phone before the first ring could even finish, but he didn't call. It was all girls needing an oil change or guys wanting to know how much we charged for something or another. I could hardly focus. I didn't know if Pony didn't call because he wasn't feeling good enough to try or because James didn't want to pay the long distance. I wanted to get their number, but I guessed it was better I didn't have it. I couldn't afford all the long distance, and besides, I'd probably call non-stop, then James might disconnect his phone.

"Wonder how the kid is," Steve glanced over at me from where we sat at a red light. There was a mustang beside us with a couple of socs trying to get out attention, revving their engine and shouting. I lifted my middle finger without sparing them a glance. Usually, Steve would have risen to the bait but not today. He was trying to be supportive I guess.

"Haven't heard anything since yesterday," I told him, even though he already knew.

"Yeah." He was quiet for a second. He didn't try bringing up Pony much, so I wondered what he was getting at. "You know we're gonna get him back, right?"

"Yeah…"

"He's gonna be alright."

"He didn't sound alright," I admitted, glancing over. "Couldn't hardly breathe for coughing."

"Kid's got a cold or something. He's fine."

"He was so sick he fell off a ladder." I reminded him, my voice cold. He didn't have an answer for that, so we were quiet for a little bit. As we were pulling up to the library, he reached out, grabbing my shoulder.

"We ain't gonna let anything else happen to the kid…not if we can help it. We're doing everything we can, man."

"I know," I muttered, staring at the doors. As we pulled into a parking spot, they opened, and the girl stepped out of the building. I lifted a hand with a half smile and she hurried over.

"We'll make Dally tell us where he is if we have to, savvy? I'll drive you to him…we'll have a road trip." I grinned then. "I'm sure James would love two more house guests."

"Yeah? Where we gonna get the money?"

"We'll figure it out. Don't you worry about that." He punched my shoulder as I leaned my seat forward, letting her climb in. "Hey Suze." He greeted over his shoulder, waiting until I'd shut my door before driving off back toward my house.

"How's it going, kid?" I asked, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Fine…thanks." She muttered, a stack of books in her lap.

"Get anything good?" She hummed, not really giving an answer.

"Why are Keith and Dallas meeting Tim Shepherd?" She asked instead.

"They're trying to get something on that guy…keeping an eye on him to make sure he don't come after us again," I told her, twisting in my seat. She looked kind of scared, her eyes wide. "Don't worry about it. It ain't nothing dangerous."

She seemed to relax a little then, looking real hesitant, like she wasn't sure if she should believe me. "Really?"

"Promise," I told her, holding up a hand. "Well, no more dangerous than anything else he does." She grinned then. "You hungry?" The girl shrugged. She wasn't usually very talkative so I didn't take it personal. "We'll make dinner when we get home, okay?"

"Alright. I can cook if you want help."

"Nah. You're a guest. Steve, on the other hand, is welcome to pitch in any time he wants." He swung at me and I tried to dodge, making her laugh when his fist landed with a thud against my shoulder. I rubbed it, laughing myself.

We all climbed out of the car when we pulled into our driveway, me holding the seat forward and giving her a hand so that she could climb out, and we all headed into the house, me locking the door behind us. It was something we did now...we'd never had to do that before. She offered again to help cook but I waved her off and she sat on the couch, grabbing one of her books and reading. _Gone with the Wind._ I stared at the title for a second, trying to remember why I knew it. Then I remembered. "Pony and Johnny saw that movie…wouldn't shut up about it." She grinned up at me, putting it down for a second.

"Yeah, he told me about it. Him and Johnny really liked it. I didn't get to see it, but I figured the book would be as good." She went back to reading and I caught Steve looking out the window, lips in a tight line. I caught his eye, raising my eyebrows and glancing back down at Susie. He just shook his head, following me into the kitchen.

"Anyone out there?" I asked, grabbing the food coloring and a box of spaghetti. He opened the freezer and pulled out some hamburger, shaking his head.

"No more than usual." He put a hand in his pocket, fingering his blade. I reached into my own pocket to make sure mine was there, then filled a pot with water.

I made spaghetti and Steve grabbed a beer and sat on the couch by Susan, turning on the TV while she read. It reminded me too much of Pony, and I found myself listening for the phone. It's what we did pretty much every day after school, back when I'd been going. We'd all come home, sitting on the sofa together and watching TV or playing cards while Pony read or did homework, and our mom made dinner. Then Darry would get home from work, usually riding with Dad. He'd worked with a construction company and had been saving for college. I wondered if he'd ever get to go now. Pony had three more years until he'd be on his own, and I wasn't sure how Darry would manage taking care of Pony and paying bills _and_ going to school.

Two-Bit and Dally came by as we were finishing up, and Darry came home as we were all starting dinner. "Any calls?" He asked, looking right at me as he grabbed a plate and sat down between me and Dallas. I just shook my head, and he ruffled my hair. "He needs to rest is all. He's fine." He told me softly, patting me on the back before taking a bite of the purple spaghetti. Susie had laughed when she'd seen the purple pasta, and Steve had assured her that I made most of our food colorful.

"What did you guys find out?" I asked Two-Bit and Dally. They both glanced at Susie and Two-Bit shrugged, apparently not minding if she knew.

"Tim and his guys talked to Pony's foster brothers. Met up with them at the park. They pretty much said the same thing they told you. They ain't talking. When they turn eighteen in a little while, they're out of here. For good. No way they're gonna stick around to testify against him. They're too scared of him." Dally told us.

"And the girl?" Darry asked.

"Margaret. Goes by Rita. Turns eighteen in a couple of weeks. They haven't managed to get her alone. Mark and Tyler said she wasn't gonna talk."

"I guess they don't want to scare her…a bunch of hoods cornering her in an alley." Two-Bit put in.

"I can talk to her." We all froze, glancing at Susie, but Two-Bit was already shaking his head.

"No."

"No way in hell." Dallas added, glaring at her a little.

"Why not?" She asked, her voice almost whiny.

"Too dangerous, kiddo." Steve told her, not unkindly.

"What's dangerous? I'll ask her about her foster dad…say I was a friend of Ponyboy's."

"No." Dallas's voice was sharp, but she just glared at him, not at all scared.

"But it'll help you get Ponyboy back." Darry sighed beside me, shaking his head.

"We ain't putting you at risk to get him back, Susie." She glared down at her plate, and for a second, I wanted her to do it. I wanted to say I'd do anything to get him back, even put another kid at risk. I wanted my little brother back! And that was scary. Was I really that kind of person?

"He's right." I said instead, catching her eye. "We ain't gonna risk you getting hurt. We'll get Pony back though, okay?" She shrugged a little, pushing Two-Bit away when he went to ruffle her hair. "Okay?" I asked again. She nodded.

"Yeah, okay." She gave in reluctantly, taking a bite of her pasta.

"So now, they're looking for a way to talk to her, but I doubt she'll talk. As far as Mark and Tyler know, she never had anything to do with Ponyboy or the other girl." Dallas went on.

"They're also saying that those two are getting another foster kid soon. They don't know how old they'll be or nothing, but it's another kid stuck in that hellhole." Two-Bit put in.

"Why can't Ponyboy testify against him?" Susie wanted to know.

"Cause it'll be his word against that ass…that guy's, plus him and his friends want to kill Pony, so it ain't safe for him to be here. It would be better if we got one of the other kids to talk to the police here, somehow get those kids taken away from him, then hopefully get some of his cop pals arrested." Dallas told her.

"The cop is still looking into it." Darry put in, but I had to admit, I was starting to get tired of him 'looking into it' and not actually _doing_ anything, even if that wasn't fair. There might not be anything he could do. We were just lucky this guy was on our side…that he wasn't trying to make us tell him where Ponyboy was so that he could drag him back to that place. Still, my fifteen-year-old brother was who knew how far away, staying with some stranger and Johnny, working a job he was too young for, sick and probably still traumatized from that asshole…and the cop was just 'looking into it.'

We needed one of those kids to talk. We needed to find evidence that the social worker was dirty, and that the other cops were too. And I had no idea how they were gonna do that. Or how I could help. I was a high school drop out…a seventeen-year-old who worked on cars at a DX, not a detective. I knew Darry was frustrated too. He'd called Officer Charlton when Pony had been real sick before he'd called when James had been keeping us updated, but all the cop had said was that him and a few others were 'working on it.' I was afraid that they'd keep 'working on it' until Pony was eighteen. I couldn't stand the thought of him being gone for three more years. I doubted Darry could either.

Susie got up when we were finished, taking her plate to the sink, and Darry did too. "Don't worry about it Susie. I can get it." He told her, but she shook her head.

"I don't care. Besides, you worked all day." He grinned when she looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest, and ruffled her hair.

"Alright then. Thanks, kiddo." We all cleaned off our plates and dropped them into the sink, me and Dar wrapping up the leftovers we could all eat on them the next day. Leaving her in the kitchen, Darry and I rejoined the guys in the living room. I thought about grabbing a beer, but figured I'd better not. The last thing I needed was to lose what little focus I had. Same for a smoke, despite the fact that both Dallas and Steve stood up with a pack in their hands, stepping out onto the porch. Two-Bit sat on our sofa, a piece of cake on a plate balanced on the arm of the sofa and a glass of milk beside him. He hadn't had a beer since Tuesday as far as I knew…when he'd promised Susan that he'd look after her. I had to admit, I was impressed. He'd been drinking so much since we'd lost Pony.

No…not lost. He wasn't lost. As long as he was alive, he wasn't lost to me. Even if he had to hide until he was eighteen…even if I didn't get to see my baby brother again for three years, he wouldn't be lost. He was just…gone. For now. Missing. Hiding out. I thought about the knife in my pocket. I knew where the man lived now. Who would care if he suddenly stopped living? I could follow him. Corner him in a back alley. Suddenly I knew I could do it. I had it in me…I could end the man's life after what he'd done to my baby brother. Just thinking about Pony with burns on his arms…I could hardly stand it.

Darry had pulled me aside after he'd talked to James on the phone the first time a few days ago. Sitting on the sofa, he'd pulled me down beside him, his hand on my back, and for a minute I'd feared the worst. The other guys had cleared out after he'd hung up the phone, Dallas taking the lead, then Steve had gone to the spare room to sleep. Two had gone into the kitchen, probably after a beer. I'd heard Darry talking on the phone…we all had, and I didn't know what to say…how to take it. Marks on his back. That's what I kept remembering. Marks on his back. But why? Why would he have marks on his back? I didn't ask, but I'd had a feeling Darry was about to tell me.

"He's feeling pretty bad. He was sick, and he fell off a ladder at work."

"Shit." I'd dropped my head into my hands and he'd rubbed my back.

"Opened up an old cut on his side. I guess he got it when he was running off. Trying to get away from that guy." I knew that now, but it had been a nasty shock then. Then Darry had gone on. "He's got marks on his back too."

"I heard. How come?" I'd asked, not wanting to know. My eyes had gotten wet, and I'd wiped at them irritably.

"James said it looked like someone beat him with a belt. More than once." I'd shuddered then, dropping my head into my hands, and he'd slung an arm around me, his forehead against the back of my head. Too much. That man had done too much. He'd beaten my brother! With a belt, with his fists. So yeah…I could kill him. Glancing over at Darry, and knowing that the only one that would hear was him and maybe Two-Bit in the kitchen, I'd said it out loud.

"I could kill him," I told my brother, ignoring how Two-Bit poked his head in. Darry looked up at me, eyes widening a little. I wasn't usually that violent. "I could stick a knife in him, Dar." He nodded after a second.

"Yeah…so could I." Two lifted a glass of milk like a toast, nodding to himself.

"Here here."

 _ **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy the new chapter.**_


	30. Conscious

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I appreciate it!**_

 _Conscious_

"How's Michael?" I glanced down from the ladder where I balanced the cans of green beans, meeting Sue's eyes. She was leaning against a shelf, hair in thick braids down her back, a blue hat that matched her dress making it so she had to tilt her head all the way back to meet my eyes. She'd been asking about him a lot, and I wondered if she liked him. I knew he'd done something…helped her out somehow, but he hadn't given me many details. I hadn't really asked much. She asked how he was about every day since he hadn't shown up for work. She hadn't been there when he'd fallen off the ladder but apparently, her dad had filled her in. He was being real nice about it too…promised not to hire anyone else and that Pony could come back as soon as he was feeling better.

Pony had been in and out for the last few days, his fever holding pretty steady. We had plenty of soup at James's place now…I'd bought lots of it, and Mr. Williams had told me to take a few cans for free since they had dents. Said he'd just get rid of them anyway, but I'd put out cans with dents before and figured he was just being nice. I appreciated it. He could have made life real hard for us. James and I had taken turns feeding him soup and trying to give him water. He'd sort of eaten some…he ate the broth mostly, but I figured it was better than nothing. "He's about the same," I told her, trying to grin. It was nice of her to worry about him. "He'll be alright though. He's tough." He was about the toughest guy I knew, considering everything that man had done to him…stuff I hadn't even known about. I was sure there was more too.

"Yeah, I know." She grinned, shifting the purse on her shoulder. It was time for her to head home. Outside, the guy that hung around a lot, the big one who'd given me plenty of looks over the last few days, was waiting. Mr. Williams told me he was her cousin on her mom's side, and he'd walk her home most nights. I guess it was good of him…it could be dangerous walking home at night. After I locked up, I'd keep my hand in my pocket on my knife, watching to make sure no one got any ideas. So far, no one had. "Tell him hello for me…if he wakes up?"

"Yeah, I will." I assured her, nodding. "Soon as he wakes up." Her eyes dimmed a little at that but she smiled as best as she could.

"Alright. Good night, Patrick." I grinned, trying to remember that I was Patrick. Pony just had to go with Soda's middle name…I wondered what Darry's was and if it would be any better.

"Night, Sue." She waved over her shoulder, kissing her dad on the cheek, then heading out the door and taking her cousin's arm.

"Have you got everything under control, son?" Mr. Williams asked about an hour later as I dusted the top shelves. It was getting so I could do this job in my sleep.

"Yes, sir. I'll probably be able to finish restocking everything tonight."

"Good…good." He crossed his arms and I climbed down the ladder, figuring he wanted to say something more. "How's Mike?"

"Still sleeping…eating the soup though."

"That's good. Are you sure he doesn't need a doctor?" All week he'd been asking the same thing, and I shook my head, even if it might not have been true. I thought again of the marks on his back and shook the thought out of my head. I didn't want to remember that…I wasn't even supposed to have seen them! Or his arms. He'd hidden it for a reason.

"I don't think so, sir." I told him, not sure if that was true.

"Well, if he doesn't wake up by tomorrow, you might want to call a doctor. Could be something more wrong with him."

"Yes sir…I will." That was a lie. I couldn't afford a doctor and as nice as James was being, letting me listen to the radio and bringing me free food, I didn't think he'd be up for paying for it. He probably didn't have the money either. He worked at a diner and didn't even have a TV.

"Alright. I'm heading out early tonight. I'll see you Monday, Patrick."

"Yes, sir. Have a good weekend." He waved over his shoulder, heading out and locking the front door behind him. I got back to the stocking and cleaning I'd been doing every night, working as fast as I could. It wasn't a bad job at all, and I figured it would be more fun when Pony was there to help and talk with. After I finished up and mopped the floors, then shut off the lights, I locked the door behind me, dropping the key into the mail slot, then headed back toward the apartment.

Thankfully it wasn't a real long walk, but I knew I'd be happier when Pony was with me. We always had each other's backs, so it would make me feel safer. Then again, no one bugged me, so I made it home pretty quick. A couple of rough looking guys passed me on the sidewalk, catching my eye, and one lifted his eyebrows, but none of them said nothing, just nodded. Like Two-Bit always said, the best thing to be when you ran into a social misfit was another social misfit.

When I got there, James was eating a burger in his chair. Ponyboy was asleep, and I felt my heart drop, but James grinned a little, looking almost happy for the first time in a while. "He woke up a couple of times today. Called his brothers and got to talk to them. Took a shower too."

"Yeah?" I asked, so relieved I almost flopped onto the couch, but I didn't want to wake him up.

"Yep. Ate a little more soup. His fever's lower too. Looks like he's gonna make it." He grinned and I did too, taking a long breath as I sat on my pile of blankets.

"Really? You think he's gonna be okay?" I mean, I hadn't really thought about the alternative, but glory he'd been sick. With the cough and the fever, and the times he'd barely eaten, I'd been real worried. What if he hadn't woken up? Could we have gotten him to a doctor without everyone figuring out who he was? Would the doctors have treated him? I mean, I think they had to, but what if they wouldn't? Or what if they called the cops 'cause he was underage? Or what if he got worse? What if he was coughing one day and couldn't breathe or something?

James waved a lazy hand through the air. "Yeah. He'll be fine. You work this weekend?"

"I'm off until Monday." I told him.

"Good. I'm working an extra shift for a buddy tomorrow, so you can stay with him. I don't go in until noon though." I nodded, glancing at Pony again. "Go ahead and take a shower if you want, kid. He ain't going anywhere. Fell back asleep a few hours ago, but he'll be okay." I stood up, grabbing a change of clothes and taking the fastest shower I could. Pony was still asleep when I got back into the living room, though, so I just dropped onto my nest of blankets. It was past midnight, and I waved off James's offer of a burger and just went to sleep.

I woke up to someone calling for me and sat up, blinking tiredly in the dark. My limbs were heavy, my eyes barely working, but my eyes finally adjusted and I found Pony sitting up, a hand on his head. "Hey man." I jumped up, sitting on the sofa beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Pony? You okay?"

"I…I thought…" He blinked a few times in the dim light let in from the open curtains. I figured I better close those before I went back to sleep. He looked awful…pale with purple shadows under his eyes, eyes darting around as he tried to figure out where he was. "Johnny?" He asked, his voice cracking.

"Yeah, Pone. It's me."

"Is…is Richard here?" He asked, barely whispering, and I squeezed his shoulder.

"Nah, man. We're in New York." I reminded him. "That asshole ain't getting anywhere near you."

He blinked a few times. "Right. I forgot." He admitted, looking scared.

"It's alright. You've been asleep for a long time."

"What…what time is it? Or…what day is it?" He asked.

"It's Friday…well, Saturday morning. I'm not sure what time it is. I can go check." He nodded, and I hurried into the kitchen, turning on the light and looking at the clock. 4:08 a.m. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, sitting down beside him once more when I'd turned the light out. "It's past four in the morning. You want some water?" He nodded, grabbing the glass and drinking most of it in one gulp. He must've been real thirsty. I reached out, touching his forehead, and he blinked at me some more. "You're still pretty hot, man, but not as bad as before." He dropped his head against the back of the sofa.

"I gotta go to the bathroom." He told me, trying to push himself to upright, and I stood up, giving him a hand. He leaned against me, his arm around my shoulders. I could tell he still wasn't feeling good. Helping him into the bathroom, I waited outside, then helped him sit back down on the sofa. "You sleeping on the floor?" He asked, staring at my blankets.

"Yeah. Remember? There's only one sofa." I grinned a little but he looked worried.

"You can take the sofa…I'll sleep on the floor."

"No way, man." I shook my head, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "You gotta rest, okay? You want soup or anything?"

"I called my brothers today. Or…yesterday?"

"Yeah? That's good. How are they?"

"I miss 'em."

"Yeah, I know." I ruffled his hair like Soda would. "They miss you too. You'll get to see 'em soon." He rubbed his eyes, nodding a little. "You wanna go back to sleep?" He hummed in agreement and I got him to lay back down, covering him up with the blankets and closing the curtains, then dropping back onto the floor. I had to admit, I was starting to miss Darrel and Sodapop's couch.

I woke up early, feeling tired still, but someone was in the kitchen banging around, so I wiped my eyes, pulling myself up and looking around. Ponyboy was waking up too, rubbing at his eyes and looking around, looking confused again. "Morning," I called, and he gave a tired smile.

"Hey." He muttered, starting to push himself up. He grimaced, though, and fell back down onto the pillows, apparently not able to manage it. He coughed a few times, blinking up at the ceiling, then grinning over at me. "I feel like shit." I snorted.

"Yeah? I believe it." I moved over to sit beside him on the sofa, touching his forehead. Still warm but not so bad. "Want some water?"

"I can get it."

"Nah. You'd better stay still." I told him, pushing him down as I stood. He could hardly sit up though, so it wasn't much of a problem. He just gave me a look, rolling his eyes.

I found James in the kitchen, making something that smelled pretty good on the stove. "I know the kid likes eggs, but how about oatmeal?" He asked as I pulled out a glass from the cabinet and put it under the tap.

"We ain't picky." I told him honestly. "Smells good. I didn't know you had oatmeal."

"Bought some yesterday."

"You ain't gotta buy food for us." I told him, uncomfortable.

"I can eat it too…guess I ought to have something in the house." He told me with a shrug, spooning some into a bowl and pouring honey over it. I took the glass of water to Pony and got an arm under his shoulders, helping him sit up. He moved slow but managed it. James came out of the kitchen, then disappeared into his bedroom, coming out with two pillows. I helped Pony sit up some more so we could get the pillows behind his back, and he leaned weakly against them, but was able to keep his eyes open and focused on us.

"How you feeling, kid?" He asked, crossing his arms and staring down at him critically.

"Better. Awake." Pony told him.

"Good. Think you could eat some oatmeal?"

"Sure. That sounds great." He nodded, heading off into the kitchen, then coming back with a bowl. I went to get my own bowl and ate on the floor while Ponyboy did his best to eat his, his eyes drooping every once in a while. He managed most of a bowl, though, which was an improvement over the last week, but his hands shook the whole time.

"What time is it?" I wondered.

"Bout nine." That explained why I was so tired. James didn't really seem the type to get up this early, but maybe he just couldn't sleep. I doubted he'd just wanted to make us breakfast. I thought about laying back down…Ponyboy was slumped against the pillows James had brought him, and I reached out, grabbing his bowl before he could drop it.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"Don't worry about it, Pony." I assured him, then took our dishes to the kitchen, glancing up when James joined me.

"What are you two gonna do all day?" He wondered, letting me wash the dishes, his arms crossed as he leaned against the counter.

"Listen to the radio, I guess…" He hummed, glancing back at the living room. "He's still feeling pretty bad so I guess he'll sleep."

"What do you two usually do?"

"Watch TV or go to the library and read," I told him, shrugging. We did more than that, but with Pony sick, that was all I could think of. When we were stuck inside, we mostly read and watched TV and smoked until Darry told us we were gonna kill ourselves if we didn't stop and then we'd give it a rest for a while. I thought of Pony's arms and tried not to shudder, wondering if he'd ever be able to smoke again. I mean, it wasn't the worst thing if he couldn't. Darry would be happy. But what a crappy way to quit.

"Don't libraries let you take books home? Thought that was the whole point." He asked, his voice dry.

"Yeah, but we ain't got cards here, so we just went to the library and read books there. You gotta have an ID to get a card." He sighed, nodding a little.

"That figures." He ambled off then, going into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. I went back to Ponyboy, sitting on the floor and putting my chin in my hand, just glad he was awake.

"How are Darry and Soda?" He seemed to think for a minute, then looked real worried about something.

"Someone threw a rock through their window." He told me.

"Damn…seriously?" I asked, sitting up straight. "They okay?"

"Yeah. One of Richard's friends I think. They want to find me."

"Darry ain't gonna let that happen. Don't worry…it'll be alright." He hummed a little, not looking convinced. I had to admit, I was kind of worried if they were going after the guys. Hopefully, they were all sticking pretty close together. I couldn't imagine those guys intimidating Darry or Dallas, but if they were throwing rocks they might start doing something worse. All I had to do was look at Pony to know that these guys were rough.

For a second, I wanted to ask about his back. I wanted to know how he'd gotten those marks…really know. I wanted him to tell me about the guy that had hurt him so bad and I wanted to find the guy. I mean, I wasn't real tough or nothing, but thinking about what that man had done to my friend, I felt like I could take him on. I could beat the ever-living shit out of him. And it might make him feel better to talk about it. But I knew I couldn't ask. He wouldn't want to tell me…besides, he was still real sick and I didn't want him to feel even worse, trying to keep things from me. Instead, I leaned against the sofa, leaving that alone and asking how his brothers were doing besides that.

"Good I guess." He shrugged with an almost sheepish smile. "I was awful tired. Can't remember too much."

"Maybe you can call them again tonight," I suggested just as James came out of his bedroom in jeans and an old white shirt.

"Ponyboy, think you can manage to survive on your own for a while?" He asked, gesturing for me to stand up. I did, confused, but Pony nodded, apparently not finding it weird.

"Sure. I think I'm gonna sleep some more."

"Good. You do that." He told him, ruffling his hair, then jerked his head at me. "Come on, kid."

I followed him out the door, waiting until he shut the door before I asked. "Where are we going?"

He was walking real fast and I had to almost jog to keep up. He glanced over his shoulder at me, eyebrow raised. "Thought you two liked to read books."

"Yeah…we do." I told him, still confused. Surely he wasn't going to buy us a book. he was already letting us stay in his apartmnt for free, and I assumed he'd bought some of that soup in the kitchen. I couldn't owe this guy any more money.

He rolled his eyes, turning the corner and I hurried to follow. "Come on, kid. I gotta be at work soon."

It wasn't until we turned a corner that I realized were we were headed. He didn't even hesitate as we stepped into the library, strolling right up to the front desk. The old lady who'd seen us around before glanced up, somewhat startled as she saw me with James who crossed his arms, showing off the tattoos and a scar or two. He didn't exactly look like the kind of guy who be hanging out in the library. Then again, I guess, neither did me or Pone. "Can I help you?" She asked, glancing between James and me. I wondered if she was thinking about calling the cops.

"Yeah. I need a library card." James told her, then jerked his head toward the shelves. "Go get some books, kid."

"Uh…sure." I hurried over to the bookshelves, glancing back at him as he pulled out his wallet.

"Does it cost anything?" He asked, sounding tired, and I left before the lady could explain how libraries worked. Instead, I found _Gone with the Wind_ , which I'd read some of, and that book Ponyboy had been reading, then grabbed a couple more which would probably last us a while. Most were mysteries that Pony might have read before, but it would give us something to do. I wondered again why James was doing this for us. We were a couple of kids crashing on his couch (and floor) that his buddy from years ago had sent up to stay with him without any kind of warning. It wasn't like he owed us anything. He didn't know us well enough to like us, either. Then again, it seemed like something Darry or even Dally would do. I guess you couldn't tell from how someone looked how they would act. I ought to know that as well as anyone.

When I got back to the desk, James was holding a laminated card that he handed back to the lady, gesturing for me to put the books on the desk. She checked them out to him, explaining that they would be due back in two weeks. "Got that kid? If some guy with a tire iron shows up at my door saying I owe money to the library, I'm handing you over." The lady behind the desk looked worried, wide eyes darting between us, but I just snorted.

"Yeah. I dig, man." He turned, leaving me to grab all the books, but the lady called me back. James crossed his arms, waiting as I headed back to the desk. "Yes, ma'am?" I asked, worried.

"Don't you usually come here with your friend…a blond boy? He was coming here quite a lot." I fought back the panic. It wasn't like the cops were gonna track Pony down just because some librarian knew there was a blond boy that came in and read. Besides, no one but James and me knew that he'd bleached his hair so no one could connect him to Ponyboy Curtis. I shrugged it off, making myself look tough like Dally. At least, I hoped I looked tough like him.

"Yeah. He's sick, so we're taking him books."

"Oh." She seemed pleased at that, and I waved, hurrying off and following James back to the apartment where Ponyboy still slept on the sofa. I put the books on the floor, then dropped onto my makeshift bed as James headed into his room to get dressed for work, figuring I could catch up on my sleep before Pony woke up again.

 ** _Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!_**


	31. Sleepless Nights

_**Thought I'd post two chapters today as a thank you to my reviewers! Hope you all enjoy the new chapter. :)**_

 _Sleepless Nights_

When I woke up, I felt more awake than I had since…well, as long as I could remember. I mean, I felt like I could hardly lift my own head, but I wasn't so sleepy anymore. For the last few days, it had been all confusing dreams of Richard or my brothers, or once, all three of us in the house with him, me trying to get my brother's to hide. Soda had laughed like I was joking, and Darry had just looked kind of worried, putting his hand on my shoulder and asking if I was alright. No, I had tried to tell him. I wasn't okay. None of this was okay.

I dreamed about Sodapop and Darry most, but a few times, Two-Bit had wandered in. And Susan sometimes. We hadn't spent all that much time together, but sometimes we would walk home together after school or exchange books. Once or twice, Sodapop had asked if I liked her, and I'd just told him that yeah, she was nice. I figured that, had she not been Two-Bit's sister, Steve or maybe Dal would have teased me about it, but since she was basically family, she was safe. I liked her just fine, and she was pretty and everything, but I usually had my mind on other things than girls. Soda assured me that would change, and I guess he was right, but probably not for a while. I thought briefly of Sue then shook that thought away. That was trouble I didn't need.

I didn't want to sleep anymore. I didn't want to dream about Richard or that house, or what had happened to Rita and Lianne. I didn't want to remember. So I sat up, or tried to, but my arms would hardly support me, and I dropped back down against the pillows. On the floor, Johnny was asleep in a pile of blankets, and I remembered that him and James had gone somewhere…at some point. I guess it had been earlier that day but I couldn't seem to keep things straight in my mind. I'd talked to my brothers, but not for long. I think they were worried, but I couldn't remember all of it. And there had been something about Susan.

Then I remembered. They'd gone after her. The guys that Richard hung around with. They'd gone into her house. I remembered what they'd done to Lianne and felt my stomach clench. Surely…Darry and Soda would have known. She would have told someone. Two-Bit at least. But they hadn't…they couldn't have. Right? I clenched my jaw, dropping my head back. I didn't want this. I didn't want to think about it and I didn't want to remember. I rubbed my hand down my face hard and sighed, trying to think about something else. Anything else.

I looked around for a clock but didn't find one, and tried again to push myself upright, gripping the sofa and pulling hard. After fighting for a second, I managed it, sitting back against the back of the sofa and wiping my clammy forehead. I thought about trying to make it to the kitchen on my own to see what time it was, but figured I wouldn't make it. Then I thought about calling my brothers, but they might be sleeping or something. Sighing and dropping my head back, I looked around the apartment, trying to remember if that radio had been there the whole time I'd been staying there. I didn't think so…

On the floor beside wasere a stack of books, and I blinked a few times, reaching out and grabbing a familiar looking one, realizing it was the book I'd been reading at the library. For a minute, as I bent down, I was so dizzy I was scared that I was gonna go tumbling onto the floor, but I managed to pull myself back up, dropping my head back and closing my eyes until it passed. In the front cover of the book was a stamp card from the New York Public Library and a black stamp telling me that the book was due back in two weeks. I wondered how Johnny had managed to get a card…surely James wouldn't have one...then, giving up on trying to figure that out, I just opened the book to the last page I'd read and tried to get lost in it.

Johnny woke up about an hour later, mumbling and rolling over and finding me sitting up on the sofa. "Hey there, Pony." He muttered, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. "How you feeling?"

"I'm alright, I guess. Not so tired anymore."  
"Good. Still got a fever?"

"I don't know…I guess." I shrugged, putting the book in my lap. "Where'd you get this?" I asked.

"James took me to the library this morning." He told me, grinning. "He got a library card."

"James? Like…the guy we're staying with?" I confirmed dubiously, and he laughed.

"Yeah. That lady asked about you, though." I felt my stomach drop.

"She recognized me?"

"Just asked about my blond friend. Don't worry, man. She's got no idea who you are. Even if someone asked about you, no one knows you've got blond hair now. Not even your brothers or Dally." I nodded. I guess that was true. "But what about you?"

"Don't worry Pone. No one's looking for me."

I flinched. "Johnny…"

"It's fine. Really." He grinned, jumping up and sitting beside me on the couch. "The guys know where I am, right? That's what matters." There wasn't really much I could say. His parents didn't care if he came home, which made me miss Darry even more. He'd always cared. About me _and_ Johnny. But I guess Johnny knew that. He knew that Darry and Soda and the guys all cared about him. It wasn't as good as having parents that cared, but it was something. The guys and my brothers were all either of us had at this point.

Johnny made soup for lunch, letting me know that it was about noon, making it around nine at home. I guess I could have called Soda…or even the house. But if I called the house, Two-Bit might answer, and what if Sodapop had been wrong? What if he was mad at me? What if he blamed me for what had happened to Susan? And I didn't want to keep bugging Soda at work. Instead, Johnny and I read, me starting to doze a few times, but managing to stay awake. James was gone all day, and when Johnny handed me the thermometer, it showed that my fever was pretty much gone.

I was feeling real hungry, I guess because I hadn't really eaten anything but soup for days, so we made sandwiches, me insisting that I could walk all the way to the kitchen by myself and Johnny insisting on helping. I ended up leaning on him some, but I was feeling stronger after we ate and had some soda that either James had bought or that Johnny had taken from the store. I wasn't sure which. I asked him about work and he told me everything, how it was kind of boring at night when everyone was gone, and how he'd be glad when I was able to work again and he wouldn't be by himself. He also told me that Sue had been asking about me, grinning and nudging me with his elbow, and I'd shoved him off, trying not to turn red and knowing I was failing.

"Hey, she's real pretty." He told me, smirking. "I'll bet she'll be glad when you get back to work."

"I helped her out once when I first got here, that's all." I grumbled, ears hot. He chuckled.

"You told Soda and Darry about her?"

"Nothing to tell." I insisted, reaching for my book again.

"Oh, come on, Pone. Don't be mad. I'm just kidding with you." He told me, throwing an arm around my shoulders. I couldn't help grinning…it almost felt like things were normal again. "I mean, she is really pretty, but she's just friendly." He pat my shoulder, squeezing me a little. "So…what did you do for her?"

"Some guy was bugging her and I helped her out." I told him. "It was no big deal."

"She seems awful grateful for something that was no big deal." I just shrugged.

"Think I can go back to work Monday?" I asked, changing the subject. He grinned a little but went with it.

"I don't know…maybe. Depends on how you're feeling I guess. We don't want you falling off a ladder again. You might crack your head open or something."

"I can mop and stuff."

"Maybe. We'll see how you're feeling. You really don't need to be working if you're still sick, though. You might make it worse."

"Yeah, I guess." I glanced back down at my book, but I was feeling dizzy and tired of reading, so I closed it and put it on the couch beside me. He got up and turned on the radio, and I closed my eyes, jerking awake when the door opened. Beside me, Johnny sat up, and we both found James and a guy I didn't recognize coming through the front door. I wondered how long I'd fallen asleep for this time.

"Hey kids." James greeted, slamming the door shut behind him. The other guy nodded, staring at me for a minute before glancing at James. "This is Terry." He jerked a thumb at the guy with him. "We work together."

The guy reached out a hand, giving a half smile. "What's up man?"

"Hey. I'm Johnny." I glanced at James who nodded, then reached out and shook the guy's hand.

"Ponyboy."

"Yeah, we met…sort of." He crossed his arms, looking at me critically. "You look better, kid. Thought you were gonna die or something."

"Nah. Kid's tough." James shoved past him, laughing a little when he had to catch himself on the couch.

"I guess so, putting up with you." Terry called. James gave him the finger before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving us alone with his friend. He didn't say much, though, just waited for James to come back out with beers, then they disappeared into his room. I didn't bother asking Johnny what he thought it was they were talking about. If it was some kind of trouble, it was something I didn't need to be worrying about. I had enough stuff to think about…my brothers and the guys back home and Susan and Richard and work and hoping I felt good enough to go to work on Monday.

Johnny didn't bring it up either, just turned up the radio and picked up his book again. I hadn't had any dreams or anything…at least, none that I remembered. Still, I didn't want to risk it. Pushing myself to my feet and waving away Johnny's offer to help, I went to the bathroom, then got myself a glass of water. I thought about making a sandwich or some pasta or something, but I was already starting to get dizzy, so I headed back to the living room and started reading again.

Johnny and I spent most of the weekend sitting around until I was going nuts. Soda was usually the one who couldn't sit still, and I was usually pretty good at it. I could sit through church and movies and school, but after almost a whole week of pretty much just sleeping and laying around, but Sunday night, I was about to go crazy. I wanted to call Darry and Soda, but I was scared…scared to find out that Susan was hurt worse than they'd thought or that Richard had done something else or that Two-Bit blamed me for all of this…I was scared. And I hated it, but scared seemed to be how I was almost all the time now, thanks to that asshole. I was scared of cigarettes and people that yelled and belts…glory, I was going to be the laughing stock of the neighborhood when I got home and some guy in a belt smoking a cigarette yelled at me…hell, Steve could yell and me and I'd probably start crying. Or they'd find out I couldn't hardly look anyone in the eye anymore…or that my hands never really stopped shaking. That someone lifting a hand made me flinch. That I cried in my sleep almost every night…

The nightmare woke me around three am on Monday morning. It hadn't been anything new…just Richard and the belt…and Lianne. It was always Lianne. I woke up biting a pillow, fighting to keep my mouth shut. He'd hated it when any of us yelled…or made any kind of noise. Ever. He liked us best when we were silent and invisible, which Lianne had never quite learned. Or cared about. And I couldn't just let him hurt her…or Rita neither. I dreamed about her too. The two of us had barely even spoken, but I still thought about her a lot. I hoped she was okay. I hoped she got away. I figured she ought to be eighteen soon. I hoped she left on her birthday and never looked back.

I was sobbing into the pillow when opened my eyes, my face hidden as I cried. Pushing the blankets away, I sat up in the dark living room, wiping my face and wondering if I'd ever get past this. If the dreams would ever stop…if I would stop being afraid. I was miles away, and there was no way he could find me, but he was after my brothers now, and our friends. Johnny had come all the way up here with me, and he had to get a job and sleep on the floor and…it was all my fault.

I dialed the phone before I gave myself time to think about it. The phone only rang twice before someone picked up, barking out a hello so quick that I didn't catch who it was. "Hey…who's this?" I asked, wiping at my eyes and hoping whoever it was didn't know I was crying.

"Depends. Who's this?" I hesitated. I was pretty sure it was Two-Bit but what if it wasn't? "Kid?"

"Yeah." I answered, hesitating. Did they know it was me? Was it someone I could trust?

The voice got a lot nicer then. "Hey, Ponyboy. It's Two-Bit." I sighed, turning my face away from the phone. Not only was he the one I was hoping not to talk to, he was also sure to know I was crying. Steve probably would have known, but he might have ignored it. He didn't sound mad, though. He actually sounded like he was grinning. And sober. It was past one am there…he should have been drunk by now. Or asleep.

"Hey, Two-Bit." I hadn't talked to him in so long...months. Almost a year now. And I missed him like crazy. Still, I hesitated only a second before asking what I needed to know, wiping my eyes. "Is Susie okay?"

"Yeah, kiddo, she's fine. She's asleep in Soda's old room."

"Really?" I asked, hating how scared I sounded…how young.

"I swear, Pony. She's fine. Do you want me to wake her up so you can talk to her?"

"No." I laughed a little, eyes still hot. "Don't wake her."

"You sure? She's probably just pretending to sleep. Darry told her she ought to go to bed when him and Soda did, and she listens to him better than she listens to me or Mom."

"Nah. I just…I wanted to make sure."

"Don't worry about it, kiddo. We're all keeping an eye on her."

"I'm sorry, Two-Bit. Glory I'm sorry...I swear…if I'd known…" I cut myself off, choking on my words.

"What, Ponyboy? You would have come back? Gotten yourself stabbed?" The words were harsh but his tone wasn't.

"Better me than her." I muttered. He sighed on the other line, sounding almost mad. "I didn't think he'd ever go after her, Two-Bit. I swear...I never thought..."

"I know that, Ponyboy. I ain't mad at you." He assured me, real soft.

"You ought to be," I argued. He sighed again, a harsh sound.

"That's where you're wrong, kiddo. Ain't none of this your fault, unless you told that asshole about my sister, in which case, I'm gonna come find you and kick your ass." He was grinning again, and I laughed, feeling better already. "How are you feeling? That James guy said you were awful sick, and Darry and Soda were worried." It sounded like he had been too, but I wasn't about to bring that up.

"I think I'm pretty much over it. I'm gonna try and go back to work tomorrow…well…tonight."

"You sure that's a good idea?" I wasn't, but what else was I supposed to do all day?

"I can't sit around this apartment anymore. I'll go nuts." He chuckled then.

"Yeah, I guess you've been cooped up for a while." He was quiet for a second. "So…how are you doing? Really? And how come you're up at 1 in the morning when you've been sick?" I didn't bother telling him it was three am where I was…he might be able to figure out where I was and he might just come find me. He didn't have a job or nothing keeping him in Tulsa. Except Susan…but he might just bring her. For a second, that thought sounded so wonderful I almost did it. Glory I missed Two-Bit…instead, I answered his question.

"Just…couldn't sleep."

"Nightmare, huh?" He asked, and I sighed. It wasn't like he didn't know about them. The whole gang did. But this wasn't like the screaming ones where I couldn't remember them when I woke up. They'd all experienced those. These were nightmares that had me sobbing and biting pillows, scared long after I woke up. Surely I was too old for those kinds of nightmares, and my ears got hot thinking about him knowing I woke up crying. Still, it would be no use lying to him. Wasn't like he thought I was tough or nothing.

"Yeah." I admitted.

"What about?" I didn't want to tell him that. I didn't want to think about it or talk about it or anything else. He went on though. "Richard? I guess they usually are, huh?"

"Yeah." I wiped at my eyes again.

"Don't blame you. After what he did, I'd probably have nightmares too." I doubted it, but it was good of him to try and make me feel better. Still, I hated to think that he knew even some of what Richard had done to me. "We're gonna get that asshole, kiddo."

"Yeah..." I muttered, wiping my eyes. "I'll let you go, man."

"Hey, kiddo, hang on a second." He stopped me before I could hang up. I sighed, leaning back against the sofa and glancing over at Johnny. He was still asleep, and I kept my voice down, trying not to wake him. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't wanna, okay? Hey, you want me to wake Soda or Darry?" Glad he'd changed the subject but not wanting to wake my brothers when they were probably real tired, I shook my head.

"Nah…they gotta work tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, they do. They wouldn't mind, though. I swear, kid, they're worried sick."

"I'll call tomorrow…I can talk to them then. I ought to get back to sleep."

How's Johnny?" He asked, and I wondered if he just wanted to keep me on the line. The thought made me grin a little. Maybe he'd missed me almost as much as Sodapop and Darry.

"Sleeping right now. But he's fine. He's been working and stuff. Reading. James got us some books from the library."

"Yeah? That was good of him."

"He's nice sometimes." Two-Bit laughed on the other line. "What about you guys? What's going on at home?"

"Nothing much. Susan's been hanging around, with me or one of the others. Tim too. His guys are keeping an eye out, trying to get one of your foster brothers to talk."

"They ain't gonna." It was true…no way Mark or Tyler would ever stick around after they turned eighteen, and to talk before then was basically a death sentence.

"Well, they're trying anyway. We haven't seen Richard or any of his buddies around. Your brother talked to that cop, Officer Charlton, and now there's cops in our neighborhood keeping an eye on things. Our neighbors aren't happy, but I think Susie feels safer."

"What are we gonna do, Two-Bit?" I asked, my voice too small. "They ain't gonna talk…" He was quiet for a second, then I went on. "What if I come back? Tell the cops myself." I hated the idea even as I said it. It was stupid and dangerous and I'd probably end up dead, but glory I was sick of hiding out up here. I was sick of everyone I cared about being in danger because of me.

"It ain't safe, kiddo. They'll put you back with that asshole...your brothers ain't never gonna let that happen. Me neither."

"I know but…if they catch him doing something to me…"

"No! Hell no, kid!" He sounded real mad then, taking me by surprise and cutting me off. I flinched, glancing over to make sure we hadn't woken Johnny. "We're not using you as bait, you hear me? Don't even think about it! And don't try that crap with your brothers either. They ain't gonna risk him hurting you."

"He already did." I reminded him. It must have been how tired I was…my eyes were hot again, and I wiped at them impatiently.

"Shit." He whispered, and I knew he was shaking his head, rubbing a tired hand down his face, or stroking his sideburns. "We ain't gonna let him hurt you no more, kiddo. I swear. We'll find a way to get you home without letting him get close to you. Hell, we'll kill him if we have to." I felt my skin go cold.

"Don't joke about that, Two." I warned, even though I knew he wasn't joking. Our friends were tough guys, I knew that. Dallas was usually good to me, but he'd been to jail more than any of us, and he'd beat a guy half to death in a rumble once. Two-Bit got along with just about everyone when he wanted to, but he carried a black handled switch and I knew he'd held it to one of his mom's boyfriend's throat's when the guy had hit Susan. Steve goofed off with Soda all the time and he could lift a hubcap faster than anyone I knew, but he had a right hook that could knock a soc on his ass.

As for my brothers, Sodapop was my favorite person in the world. He loved me and he'd always stick up for me, but in a rumble he could be vicious and mean as anyone. Then there was Darry…glory Darry was big. He could bench press me easy, which he'd done a few times just to prove he could. Heck, he had me sit on his back when he did push ups. So if it came to killing someone, our gang could pull it off easy, not to mention if they got Tim's crew involved.

"Who's joking. I'll bet you anything you're big brothers would off that guy in a heartbeat. Any of us would." I knew that. I knew that if you pushed my brothers hard enough, especially if it involved threatening me, they could kill someone. The thought made me sick. I couldn't stand the thought of Darry or Sodapop having to go to jail because of me.

"If you got caught…"

"Tim's guys can do it. No cop's gonna catch them."

"And what about his cop friends?" He sighed, and I knew I had him.

"We're still working on that part. Just…sit tight, Ponyboy, and focus on getting better. Okay?"

I hesitated for a second, then nodded even though he couldn't see me. Might as well agree for the moment. "Yeah, okay."

"Good. Go to bed kid. Call back tomorrow and we can all talk to you." He hesitated. "I sure do miss you, kiddo. You know?"

"I miss you too." I murmured, letting the tears fall this time and sniffing quietly. He knew I was a baby just as much as the rest of the gang, I guess, so it didn't matter. "I miss you guys...just wanna come home, Two-Bit."

"I know. You'll get to soon. I swear kid, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna make sure you get home. Okay?" I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, but I guess he thought I didn't believe him. "Shoot, I ever lie to you, Pone?"

"I don't think so." He snorted.

"Goodnight, Pony. Get some rest, and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Night, Two." Hanging up the phone, I dropped back onto the sofa, staring up at the dark ceiling and feeling the hot tears drip down the sides of my face, missing home so bad it hurt my chest. But Two-Bit had never lied to me. They'd make it safe for Johnny and me to come back...I just hoped they did it soon.

 **Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!**


	32. Back to Work

**_Thank you so much to all of my reviewers. I appreciate all of your reviews so much! They make my day :) I hope you enjoy the new chapter._**

 _Back to Work_

"Hey, you're alive!" Sue grinned at me from behind the counter, the big guy who usually hug around giving me a once over and nodding, not looking happy, exactly, to see me, but not upset either. When we'd walked over, Johnny had caught me up, telling me the kind of stuff he did at work, and that he guy that hung around a lot was her cousin. Beside me, Johnny smirked and nudged me hard, and I had to fight not to kick him. Her dress was yellow, matching the ribbons in her hair, and I did my best to keep my eyes on hers and not let my ears get even redder.

"Yeah…" I nodded, wanting to kick Johnny again when he snorted, walking off to find our boss. I better…uh…tell Mr. Williams that I'm back."

"Sure." She gave a half wave, going back to waiting on the customer standing in front of her.

"She looks good, huh?"

"Shut up," I grumbled, nudging him where he was waiting for me in front of the workroom door. Pushing past him, I opened the door, both of us heading back to Mr. Williams' desk. He glanced up, then did a double take, looking me up and down as he stood up.

"Michael? How are you feeling, son?" He asked, holding out a hand. I took it, fighting to meet his eyes, not wanting him to think I was rude.

"Fine, sir."

"Good." He was eyeing me critically, his eyes going to my arms, which were covered by the long sleeves I still insisted on wearing. "Are you sure you're up to coming back to work, son? If you need to take a few more days, you're not going to lose your job."

"I'm okay." I insisted.

"Alright." He nodded, glancing over at Johnny. "Patrick can show you everything that needs to be done, in case you can't remember. You had a pretty high fever the last time you were here, so I wouldn't blame you if you couldn't remember. You can come to me if you have any questions." He crossed his arms. "No ladders, alright? I mean it, Mike. Stay on the floor. And if you start to feel bad, you can sit down, or if you need to go home, that's fine too."

Johnny nodded. "I'll keep an eye on him." He promised, grinning at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, boys. Get to work. I'll be at my desk if you need me."

Johnny took me around the back room, pointing out where everything was and where I'd find what I needed to restock. The cleaning supplies were all in a closet and we started by getting boxes of cans or paper towels or whatever needed restocking and taking it out onto the floor. He took all the high shelves and I knelt down and did the lower shelves. I got dizzy every once in a while, but it usually passed.

Sue waited until the store was just about closed before she came over. Johnny was on the other side of the store, putting away toilet paper on the top shelves, so he couldn't say anything smart or embarrass me, which I would probably do just fine on my own. "Hey, Mike. You sure you're feeling okay?"

I wiped off my forehead, sitting up on my knees. "Yeah. I'm alright. Just had the flu or something." I had no idea what had been wrong with me, but whatever it was, it seemed to be mostly gone.

"Yeah? Good." She hesitated, glancing around. "I was worried."

"You ain't gotta worry about me. I'm fine." I told her, my chest kind of tight as I grinned. She grinned back crossing her arms.

"My dad was pretty worried. Patrick too. Must have been some flu." I just shrugged. "You coming to church with us on Sunday? I figured you were still too sick yesterday."

"Yeah. I wasn't really up to it, but we'll come Sunday."

"Patrick likes church too?"

"Me and him would go sometimes back home."

"You got any other family?" I guess her father hadn't told her we weren't really brothers. I shook my head, not wanting to lie, but also not wanting to give her too much information. I didn't think she'd ever rat us out or nothing, but the fewer people who knew anything about me in this city, the better.

"Nah. Not anymore."

"Well, you're lucky to have Patrick, then." I nodded.

"Yeah, I am." She started to say something else, but her cousin walked over, lifting an eyebrow at me and nodding, glancing between me and Sue.

"Mike, this is my cousin, Marcus. Marcus, this is Michael." I stood and held out a hand that he shook after a second, nodding and squeezing my hand kind of hard.

"Nice to meet you, Michael."

"You too." He let go and I slouched a little, hooking my thumbs in my jeans, going back to the old posture I relied on, trying to look tough, which was ridiculous since this guy was almost as big as Darry and could probably knock me on my ass before I could say 'boo' to him, but I could hold my own in a rumble pretty well. I hoped it didn't come to it with him, though.

"I'll let you get back to work. I'm going to head home. Goodnight, Mike."

"Night, Sue." I nodded to Marcus. "See you around, man."

"Sure…see you around, kid." He waved over his shoulder, putting a hand on Sue's shoulder and leading her out the door. Mr. Williams followed behind right after, leaving me and Johnny alone in the store. A few times while we were cleaning up, mopping and dusting and taking out the trash, I had to stop, leaning against the shelves or, once, at Johnny's insistence, going to the back room and sitting on the sofa, drinking some water, then joining him again. We quit at 11, him dropping the keys through the mail slot.

"Well, what did you think?" He asked me as we were walking back to the apartment. "Not too bad, huh?"

"Nah. I guess it's easier with two people."

"We got more done, that's for sure." He yawned, stretching his arms up, then grinning over at me. "You hungry?"

"Starving," I admitted.

"Come on." He jerked his head, turning left instead of right when we got to the road where James lived, leading us to a diner where music was still blasting through the speakers. I had to admit, I still wasn't used to anything but bars being open this late.

"Think this is where James works?" I wondered as the waitress led us to a booth in the back right against the window. The place was almost full, mostly greasy looking guys eating burgers and girls in short skirts drinking milkshakes and giggling together. A few of the girls glanced over our way, some of them looking curious, and one kept looking at Johnny, trying to catch his eye until I kicked him, jerking my head toward her. His cheeks went kind of dark and he kicked me back.

"Maybe. There's another diner about a block away, and another one the other way, closer to that church you went to." He told me, ignoring the girl.

"You wanna go sit with her? I won't mind." He kicked me again, this time harder, but he was grinning and I laughed.

"You gonna call your brothers tonight?"

"Yeah, I told Two-Bit I would."

"You talked to Two-Bit?"

"Oh…yeah. I called last night after you went to bed, but Soda and Darry were already asleep." The waitress came over, notepad in hand, and we both ordered burgers and shakes, then I turned back to Johnny. "We can both talk to everyone tonight. They're probably sick of just talking to me."

He snorted. "I doubt it. Soda and Darry miss you like crazy."

"They all miss you too." I reminded him. He waved me off, but he was smiling a little. I wanted to say more…to remind him that he was family and the gang couldn't live without him, but I figured that might be a little too much emotional talk for one night, so I let it go. "So they got cops in the neighborhood, looking out for those guys. I told you about the rock?"

"Yeah…and everyone's alright?"

"They're fine…" I glanced around, then leaned in. I hadn't told him about Susan yet. I don't know why…I guess everything happened kind of fast and I was worried and…either way, I told him all about it as we sat waiting for our food, finishing up by telling him that the gang was keeping a closer eye on her now.

"Glory…I'll bet Two-Bit's pissed."

"Yeah…"

"Scared too. You sure she's okay?" Him and Susie weren't close but she was family or as good as.

"He said she was. Offered to let me talk to her, but she was asleep."

"And it happened on Tuesday night?"

"Yeah. Ever since they've all been keeping an eye on her. But…I don't know how they even knew about her."

"Probably just followed Two-Bit and found out where he lived. It wouldn't have been hard…could have followed him from your place. But if they're watching out for her, and Tim's hanging around, there's not really anyone else to go after. Steve's got his dad, but he probably won't care if they rough him up." We both laughed at that and our waitress brought the burgers and chocolate milkshakes that we downed almost immediately, me dipping my fries in the chocolate ice cream and Johnny wolfing down his burger.

"You know it ain't your fault, right?" He asked quietly when most of his burger was gone. I stared at the fries on my plate, swirling one in ketchup. "I mean…shoot, Pone, you didn't ask for any of this."

"I was the one who wanted to go to the park, Johnny." For a long second, he was silent, and I could feel his eyes on me. I stared at my fries, though, listening to the guys at the next table over. They were talking about some guy named Pete. Behind us were some girls all whispering, and every once in a while I heard a name. It was still weird being here, alone with Johnny in the city where no one knew us and where I had no idea who anyone was. Back home, I'd known just about everyone, at least by name. Here, I knew James, the guy I worked for, his daughter, and maybe three other guys.

"You can't be serious." Johnny was shaking his head, eyes wide, and I vaguely realized that the guys at the next table over were glancing at us, but none of them came over.

"I fell asleep in the lot. I made Darry mad. I wanted to go to the park." I stared back down at my friends while I listed my many mistakes.

"You've more than paid for all that…"

"Now I'm hiding out while that asshole goes after my family and Two's sister and…"

"He would have killed you!" He was talking too loud and I gave him a look. He lowered his voice, but not by a whole lot. "Have you looked at yourself, man? He almost did kill you." He didn't have to spell out what he was talking about, and I dropped the fry on the plate, suddenly not at all hungry. "I mean…shit, Pony. Look at your arms! And he…"

I stood up, not letting him finish. I didn't want to hear it. I mean, I knew he'd seen, but I sure as hell didn't want to talk about it. Leaving him open-mouthed, I about ran to the bathroom, throwing open the door and almost running into a big guy in a leather jacket. Good to know I wasn't the only one who wore long sleeves in the summer. He lifted an eyebrow at me, shoving me aside and warning me to 'watch it,' then left. Honestly, I was just grateful that he left it at that instead of slugging me. I leaned forward against one of the sinks, closing my eyes and breathing slow, not wanting to throw up the first really good food I'd had in a while.

He wasn't wrong about Richard. That man had hated me from the get-go. Of course, I wasn't special or nothing. He hated all of the foster kids. I figured his wife took them in for the money and he just put up with it. They got money every month for every kid they took in…I wondered as I stared at the sink if they'd taken in any more kids. Surely with one kid dead and one missing, they weren't allowed to take in any more. He'd been unfriendly from the beginning, but it hadn't been until after I'd talked to the social worker that he'd really gotten mean. He hadn't used the belt on me before that.

At first, I'd tried to think about Dallas…how he would take it. But Dally would strangle someone with that belt before he let them hit him with it. I couldn't fight him, though. I wasn't big enough or strong enough, especially considering they barely fed us. Mark and Tyler never did anything…I mean, they didn't know all of it, sure, but they'd cleared out more than once when he took that belt off. Then again, I didn't blame them. If they'd tried, he would have been worse to them.

That was a lie. I blamed them. I blamed them every time I looked at my arms or felt a scar on my back. It just sounded better to say I didn't blame them. They could have helped. They could have stepped…I sure did for Lianne. Not just her, neither. I took plenty of shit for it, but I took it. They didn't…they took off whenever they could and left the rest of us to fend for ourselves. But they gave me money for food sometimes too…gave me rides to school in the morning when it was cold. At school, no one ever really messed with me, and sometimes they'd sit with me at lunch…or at least give me a dollar to get something. They weren't my brothers, but they'd lived with me. Shared a bedroom, all of us crammed together in that tiny room, and after the first day, they'd never tried to mess with me or hurt me or nothing. But they'd also let that man hurt me.

I glanced down at the sleeves that went all the way to my wrists and tugged them down, just barely covering the blister that almost went up to the back of my hand. Richard had made sure to only hurt me where I could hide it…he was real considerate that way. I hadn't seen my back…not really. I never tried to look. I'd just forced myself under the shower every time, making sure to clean up good so it never got infected. The burns were harder…everything hurt, all the time, but I wasn't sure how to keep those from getting infected, so I just put whatever medicine I could on them.

"You on a bad trip or what, kid?" I jerked my head up and found a greaser from the diner standing in the bathroom beside me, eyebrow cocked as he crossed his arms.

"What?" I asked dumbly, dropping my hand on the rim of the sink.

"You on some kind of drugs?" I shook my head, looking back down at my hands. They were shaking. I figured I was pretty pale from being sick still…guess I did look kind of like an addict.

"Nah. Just…sick," I muttered, scooting past him to go back to the booth where Johnny sat, playing with one of his fries. I dropped into the booth across from him, fighting to meet his eyes. He put the fry down.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said anything." He almost whispered. My hands were shaking under the table…apparently, that's what happened when I made eye-contact for more than three seconds now. Still, I made myself look at him.

"You ready to go? We gotta hurry if you wanna call the guys." I reminded him instead of answering. This wasn't something I wanted to hash out at a diner…or anywhere else, for that matter.

"Yeah, man. Sure." He threw the money on the table, leaving a tip for the waitress, and we were out the door before he brought it up again. "I know it was real hard on you…"

"How the hell would you know?" I snapped before I could stop myself. "Shit, Johnny, you think you have any idea what it was like, living with that asshole? Huh?" I'd whirled on him in the street, hands clenched.

"No…but I know what it's like to live with people that don't want you around." He offered, slouching and shoving his hands in his pockets, making me deflate, the anger draining out of me and leaving me weak. I felt my eyes get hot, and I wiped at them impatiently. Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder, and I flinched, hating myself. He kept his hand on my arm, squeezing gently. "I don't know what all he did to you. But I know you can talk to me…you're my best friend, Pone. You know? I mean, I know I ain't your brother..."

"Sure you are." I forced myself to meet his eyes again. Sure it was hard, but it was important. "Shoot, Johnny, you're my brother in every way that matters." His eyes widened, and then he put his arms around me right there on the street, patting my back, and I was fighting tears again. I was turning into a baby these days…Steve would sure get a kick out of it if he knew. I hugged him back, my head on his shoulder. He'd gotten taller…but I had too, I guess.

After a long minute, he pulled back, his hand shooting out and ruffling my hair. I laughed, pushing him away. "Come on, Ponyboy. Let's get back so we can call the guys."

"Yeah, alright." He grinned, slinging an arm around me, and together we headed back to the apartment.

No one was home when we reached the apartment…either that, or James was asleep in his room. We both dropped onto the sofa, me grabbing the phone and dialing first thing while Johnny kicked his shoes off. The phone rang only once before Darry picked up. "Hello?" he asked, sounding both wary and hopeful.

"Hey, Darry." I grinned, gripping the phone tight.

"Ponyboy." He sighed my name. "Hey, kiddo. You sound like you're feeling better." In the background, I heard someone else yelling, and the music on in the background was turned down.

"Yeah. We just got back from work."

"How was it?" Then, immediately after. "Hang on, kiddo." I guess he put his hand over the phone, and then he was yelling at someone. "Dang it, Two-Bit. You break that, I'll skin you!" I felt my chest get real tight...glory I wanted to be back home so bad. Johnny patted me on the back...apparently I was pretty transparent.

"Is that Pony on the phone?" Someone else asked…it sounded like a girl, so I had to assume it was Susie.

"Hey, let me talk to him!" That was Sodapop.

"Wait your turn." Darry sounded like he was laughing, then he was back. "Sorry Pone. How was work?"

"Fine. We just put stuff on shelves and clean up."

"Your new boss was okay with you taking time off?"

"Yeah. He was real nice about it. How are you guys? Anything else happened?"

"Nope. You ain't gotta worry about us, Ponyboy. We can take care of ourselves."

"Yeah, kid!" That was Steve, and I laughed when there was a crash, assuming Darry had just shoved him into something.

"Here, let me!"

"I said wait your turn." Johnny laughed from where he was pressed up beside me, his ear right by the phone so he could hear too. Darry and Soda didn't bicker like that much…not since Darry was about sixteen anyway. Then there was another crash, and Darry was yelling, but he sounded further away.

"Hey kid. It's Dallas. How's it going? How's Johnny."

"I'm good, Dal." Johnny spoke up.

"Hey…can both of you hear me?" I could hear Darry yelling something in the background and grinned.

"Yeah, Dal. We can both hear."

"Alright, listen up then. James keeping an eye on you?"

"Yeah." Johnny told him.

"Good. You two staying out of trouble?" He demanded

"Yeah." I assured him.

"Keep it that way. I mean it, you two. It's a miracle you've lasted this long alone."

"Hey!" Soda yelled, and Johnny grinned at me. "He's a smart kid. Both of 'em. They'll be fine."

"Sure." Dally was rolling his eyes…I could hear it in his voice. "Look, that cop's still just looking into things. Tim and his guys too. So nothing new there. They're talking about Richard getting a new foster kid."

"Shit…" I muttered under my breath, exchanging a worried look with Johnny. "They can't…right? I mean…he…they found Lianne." I choked out, running a hand through my hair. "Right?"

"Yeah." He told me, sighing.

"They…they can't give him more kids!"

"The cop, officer Charlton, is trying to stop it. He ain't got much to go on, though."

"I'll talk to him. Hell, Dally, I'll come back."

"No you won't. Even if you talk to him, what's he gonna say? That he knew you were alive and didn't say anything? Then the rest of us will get dragged into it…just stay put, kid, and let us take care of it."

"But if I come back and they catch him hurting me…" It hadn't worked with Two-Bit but maybe Dally would realize it was a good idea. He didn't.

"Don't even think about it!" He growled. "Kid, I swear you try something stupid like that, I'll beat the ever-loving shit out of you! You savvy?"

"Dal…"

"What? What did he say?" Soda was demanding in the background.

"Something stupid. Don't worry about it."

"Dally…"

"I mean it, Ponyboy. Let us take care of this." Glory, I was sick of letting them 'take care of it.' The thought of going back was even worse, though. Richard would kill me.

Johnny took over the conversation, then, telling Dally about the store, then Dally handed the phone over to Soda and Steve. Soda wanted to know all about work and questioned me until Steve butted in, telling us it sounded boring, but he was laughing, not being mean, so we laughed too. Then they told us all about the station and the cars and all the details I'd tuned out ever since they got jobs there.

I closed my eyes and dropped my head back, just listening to my brother and Steve talk. I missed them so much. I wanted to be in the room with them! I wanted Steve to make a smart comment and for Soda to smack him…I wanted Two-Bit to ruffle my hair and for us to wrestle until Darry yelled at us to knock it off before we broke something. I wanted to exchange books with Susie and read with Johnny…I wanted to go home.

I opened my eyes and Johnny was watching me real close, looking sad, and I forced a grin, cutting Steve off in the middle of a story. "Yeah, yeah. You stole their hubcap and hawked 'em for beer money. I know this story." He snorted.

"You little shit. Just when I was starting to miss you."

"You still miss me." He laughed. "I miss you too." I murmured, and he stopped laughing, sighing instead.

"Shit, kiddo." He murmured. "We're gonna get you two home soon, you know that right?"

"Yeah, we ain't worried," Johnny spoke up, patting me on the shoulder.

"Hey, you know anything about that girl? Rita?" Steve asked. "Tim and his guys are trying to talk to her, but she don't seem to want to talk."

"Nah. We never really talked." I brushed off the question. That was the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth. I wasn't about to give him the whole truth, though. It wasn't my truth to tell. "Hey…can I talk to Susie?" I asked, and Johnny lifted an eyebrow at me, half-grinning. I ignored him.

"Uh…sure, Pone." Soda told me. They must have been shoulder to shoulder like me and Johnny, listening as best they could at the same time, and then there was shuffling and quiet talking, and a new voice came on the phone.

"Ponyboy?"

I relaxed a little and Johnny moved away a little, giving me some privacy. "Hey Susie."

"Hey! Where you been?" I grinned.

"Away. Are you okay?"

"Sure." Her voice was light and carefree…I didn't buy it.

"Are you okay?" I asked again. "Really okay? I know those guys, Susie. I know what they do."

"Yeah…" She sighed, and I knew she wouldn't say much in front of the guys. Still, she went on. "It was…bad. But everything's fine. I swear."

"I'm so sorry, Susie."

"I know." I was glad she didn't say it wasn't my fault. It didn't matter.

"Did they hurt you?"

"Not much." I rubbed a hand over my face.

"Glory, I'm so sorry."

"I know." She told me again. It sounded like she was smiling. "I forgive you." Grinning at the floor, I squeezed the phone.

"Thanks."

"Anytime. You wanna talk to your brothers again? I think Darry wants to talk to you. Dallas kind of took the phone away from him."

"Sure. Thanks, Susie."

"Here's Darry…oh, wait. Can I borrow some of your books?"

"Yeah, Susie. Take whichever ones you want."

"Thanks. Here's your brother." With that, she handed the phone over, and I got to talk to Darry again, the whole time trying not to start crying with how bad I missed all of them. Johnny kept his shoulder against mine, chiming in and carrying the conversation when I couldn't. And when we finally said goodnight, he put his arm around my shoulder, reminding me that we could go home just as soon as this was all over.

 ** _Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it. :)_**


	33. Blackout

**_Thank you to everyone who has read my story so far! I hope you enjoy the new chapter!_**

 _Blackout_

The week passed in a blur of work and sleep so quick that it felt like I blinked and it was Sunday. We went to work every night, Pony getting better and better. At first, I'd worried a lot. Every time he was up for too long, or after walking to and front the store, he'd start looking real pale and shaky, and I'd tell him to sit down. Sometimes he'd listen to me. Other times he'd try to push through, sweating and leaning on the shelves at the store. The first day was the worst. He'd gotten tired just walking to the grocery store, and Mr. Willaims had seen it immediately. Still, he'd let Pony work.

I knew Pony was getting sick of being cooped up inside. He was better than Soda at sitting still all the time, and at school, he'd get so wrapped up in writing an essay or reading that I'd have to nudge him sometimes when it was time to leave the library and go to our next class. But he'd been on that couch for days and I could tell it was getting to him, so I didn't say anything when Pony insisted on getting up and going to work with me on Monday afternoon. That morning, we mostly just read our books, him tearing through the rest of the one he'd been reading, then starting on one of the mystery novels I'd grabbed. He had been getting jumpy…his foot tapping and his fingers tapping on his leg. He'd get up and walk to the kitchen, getting a glass of water, then staring out the window until he'd come back and sit on the couch with me again, reading for a few minutes at a time.

"Hey guys." I jumped a little, scratching my neck and pulling my collar away from my neck. It was awful hot out, but Pony still wore long sleeves…I figured he was hot, but he didn't move to pull them up. I hadn't seen his arms except when he was sick and unconscious, and then I'd tried not to look too close. He sure didn't want me to. Same with his back. I doubted he'd ever show anyone on his own. Maybe Sodapop if he asked. Or Darry. I guess at this point he'd do just about anything for his brothers.

Around us on the sidewalk, a few ladies in dresses fanning themselves with paper funeral fans slipped by, and Pony and I stepped to the side on the steps where Sue leaned against the door. The church was pretty, with a huge steeple and big doors. She had her arms crossed and was smiling at us, Marcus at her side. We'd seen him almost every day that week with a couple of his buddies at the store, but apart from the occasional 'hey' I hadn't really heard him talk. They were both dressed real nice, him in a tie, and her in a long yellow dress with hair ribbons to match. I felt kind of shabby in my jeans and t-shirt, albeit the nicest one I owned. Pony was the same in clean clothes, but we were easily the worst dressed of anyone around.

"Hi Sue. Marcus." Ponyboy greeted, holding out a hand for Marcus. The big guy took it, nodding to both of us.

"Wasn't sure you'd actually come back, Mike." She said, smiling at him. Marcus lifted an eyebrow but didn't comment. "Glad you're feeling better." She'd said just about the same thing at the store on Monday, but his ears got kind of red, just the same. His blond hair covered a lot of it, but I could still tell. From the way Marcus looked at him, I figured he could too. She'd sought him out a few times at work, and I'd glance over and find them talking real quietly together, Pony usually blushing and Sue grinning at him.

"Yeah…" He stammered a little. "Just…thought we'd come by…"

"We used to go to church back home sometimes." I put in, stepping in and rescuing him. "He told me about this place…figured we'd give it a try. We had to stop going back home when our buddies made a scene."

"Made a scene?" She asked, looking kind of concerned as she glanced around.

"One of 'em dropped a hymnal while the preacher was talking." I explained, and she laughed.

"Marcus did that once. His momma took him into the bathroom and spanked him right there in church." I bit back the laugh but Pony didn't quite manage it. Marcus sighed beside her, giving her a look that she ignored.

"Michael. Patrick." Mr. Williams came from inside the church, wide-eyed as he tried to hide his surprise. "Good morning, boys." He held out a hand to shake and we both did.

"Good morning, Mr. Williams." We chorused like a couple of second graders, but he didn't laugh, just tried not to look puzzled. It didn't really work.

"Why don't you guys sit with us?" Sue asked, smiling up at her dad. "We can introduce you to everyone…oh, and Reverend Marshall!" She called, waving her hand at a tall man in a fancy suit walking up the stairs.

The guy shook hands with Mr. Williams then turned to us. "Hello there." The older guy greeted us, looking…well, not upset, but confused.

"Reverend, this is Patrick and his brother, Michael. They're my new stock boys…Michael came a few weeks ago when he first moved here."

"Nice to meet you sir." Pony greeted him, hands shoved in his pockets as he gave an uncomfortable smile, glancing back at me. I nodded to the reverend. I'd never met the one at the church where we'd used to go…he certainly hadn't gone out of his way to introduce himself like this one.

"I believe I do remember you coming in a few weeks ago, Michael. You looked as though you had walked into the wrong church."

The reverend was smiling but my friend went red, slouching even more. "Yeah…I mean…I didn't know…" The revered chuckled.

"Well, you're both welcome. Now if you'll excuse me…" We nodded and I shot Sue a look. She just smiled, showing teeth.

"Next week, we're having dinner after the service. You guys ought to come." We both glanced at Mr. Williams, but he nodded, seeming to relax a little, even though he was still looking around. Back home, there were only about four black kids in our school, and a there were a few more around the neighborhood. They were never at the bars or anything though, not where Dally or Tim hung out anyway…those were the only ones I'd been to. I wondered if they were worried we were gonna start something…or if we just didn't belong there.

Either way, we followed our boss and Sue to the pew and sat down, Pony on the end by the wall, then me, then Marcus, then Sue and her father. We were quiet during the singing, both of us just listening, and when the reverend started talking, Pony stared at the ground, but I know he was listening. The reverend talked about some New Testament stuff…loving your brother and all that. It was nice…he talked for a long time, and then when he was done, they sang again and it was all over. It seemed shorter than the church we'd been to back home.

I'd kind of missed church, honestly, since Pony wouldn't go anymore after Two-Bit had made a scene. I knew Two-Bit felt kind of bad about that…Sodapop too. Still, there was nothing they could have done to make it any better, so they just left it alone. I don't know if Darry even knew about it. He hadn't been with us that day, and as far as I knew, never asked if Pony still went.

Pony and I stood as soon as the service was over, waiting for the family we were sitting with to stand and let us pass. Pony stared at his feet, looking uncomfortable, and I took a step toward him, nudging him a little with my arm. At the front, a lady was playing the piano real soft, but we could barely hear it over the dull roar of voices, people greeting each other and shaking hands. I caught snippets of conversation; stuff about dinner plans and people asking about kids and grandparents and school. Then I caught the eye of a guy who gave me an odd, almost angry look, then grabbed at the reverend as he walked back. "Reverend, a word please." The man pulled the preacher aside just as the Williams family stood up, Mr. Williams ushering his daughter out into the aisle. Sue was turned to a family behind us, talking over the pew to a girl about our age who kept glancing at me but wouldn't make eye contact.

The reverend and the guy were just across the aisle from us as we edged forward, and I couldn't help but hear. A glance back at Pony's face told me he could hear too.

"Good morning, Mr. Anthony." The guy the preacher was talking to was shorter than Mr. Williams by a full head with gray hair that barely covered the top of his head. His clothes were loads better than ours though, and he kept giving me sideways glances. Sue took a few steps forward, but it was a traffic jam in the main aisle with ladies stopping and talking to each other. The girl she was talking to about school was edging forward too, and I figured by the way she stared at Ponyboy for a second that she wanted to ask about us.

"Are you honestly going to allow those…boys to come in here…" He lowered his voice for the last part, and I glanced over at Ponyboy who had obviously heard. The other three had too because Marcus was staring at the ground, not meeting our eyes, and Mr. Williams and Sue were both staring at the preacher and the man. The girl Sue had been talking too turned kind of red, suddenly real interested in something on the other side of the church. After a second, Sue crossed her arms, looking mad, but Mr. Williams put a cautioning hand on her arm.

Pony stared down at the floor, his ears turning real red, and I put an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, man. Let's go." He nodded, jaw tight, but the pastor raised his voice, sounding angry as we tried to slide past the Williams family. I figured if we couldn't get out that way, Ponyboy would resort to climbing over pews he looked so uncomfortable.

"You don't have to…" Sue started, but I cut her off.

"Nah, the guy's right. We ought to go."

"You haven't done anything wrong!" She cried, drawing a couple more stares, and Pony looked about ready to drop through the floor. I gave her a look, grabbing Pony's arm and about to push our way through when the pastor's voice got real loud.

"What would you like me to do, Mr. Anthony?" The Reverend asked, his voice booming like he was preaching still. Around us, the conversations had all stopped.

"Don't they have their own church they can go to?"

"You're asking me to kick two young men out of the church because…?" He trailed off, apparently not willing to even suggest it was because we were two white boys in a black church that had probably seen it's fair share of white boys causing trouble. I didn't blame the guy much, except I hated how miserable Pony looked.

"You know how the kids around here are, Reverend. They're here to start trouble." Well…guess I'd been right. That didn't make me feel any better about it, though, especially because Pony had wanted to come and now he probably felt like he'd done something wrong. I felt a dull anger growing at that man…Ponyboy didn't deserve this, not after everything else.

"Hey, you don't want us here, we'll leave!" I called, pulling on Pony and glaring at the man who pointed a finger at us as he murmured something else. Marcus moved back, and Mr. Williams did too, letting us step around them finally. The other members of the church all got out of the way too, but the pastor spoke up again.

"They work for Mr. Williams." The reverend spoke reasonably, but his voice was steel.

"They're probably going to start trouble for him too."

"I will not ask two boys to leave the church because of their color, Mr. Anthony!" It got real quiet then, and everyone in the building was staring at us. "I'm ashamed that you would even ask it of me." He sounded kind of like a greaser, then, mad and scary, but when he turned and came over to us, he was all mild and friendly again.

"Are you boys heading home?" The Reverend asked, talking loud enough that everyone could hear…especially since they were all still really quiet. He was smiling like nothing had happened. The guy who'd been complaining about us was storming down the aisle toward the front door. A few people watched him go and then turned back at us, apparently ready to watch their pastor talk to us. Didn't they have TV or something?

"Yeah...yes sir." Pony corrected himself, ears still red, hands shoved in his pockets. He was slouched and kind of fierce looking, but I knew that was how he looked when he was scared. "We'd better get going." The Reverend nodded.

"Alright. I hope to see you next week. Michael." He held out a hand that Pony shook after a second of hesitation, and then the reverend did the same for me. I shook his hand, trying to grin. "You boys be careful." We nodded and he turned to another family. I could feel the people in the church watching us leave and felt myself breathe again as we stepped outside into the bright sunlight.

"Who's caused them trouble?" I wondered as we walked down the street toward the apartment.

"Sue told me that sometimes guys went to that church and set off fireworks and stuff. And the fuzz don't do nothing about it."

"'Cause it's a black church?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yeah, I think so." I grimaced as I opened the door to the apartment, coming up short when I found three guys in the living room. James and Terry were there, along with a guy I didn't know. They were all sitting on the floor, a deck of cards spread out between them, each of them with a few cards in their hands. James lifted an eyebrow at us, then jerked his head at us, gesturing for us to come in.

"Hey, kids. This is Ed." James pointed at the third guy.

"You two go to church or something?" The guy joked. I just lifted an eyebrow and Pony nodded. He snorted. "Weird kids…"

"Ponyboy, you met Ed when he kicked you out of the apartment." James reminded him. "Ed, this is Johnny."

"Oh right…sorry about that," Ed muttered, playing a card. "You two wanna play? You know how to play poker?"

"Yeah, we know how," I told them, and they put all their cards back in the desk, Terry shuffling. I'd met him several times while Ponyboy was sick, and he seemed decent. He'd brought soup for Pony to eat. Ed, on the other hand, I'd never seen before, but apparently, Ponyboy had. They'd moved over to give us room to sit down, and Pony sat beside Terry while I sat beside James. Terry dealt me in and we spent the next few hours playing poker, losing money we didn't have. No one seemed to be keeping track though, so it was fine.

Ponyboy called his brothers the next morning, pretty early, I guess catching them before they went to work. I slept in, just barely hearing his soft voice as he talked to someone on the phone. I thought about asking to talk to them…it had been good to hear from the guys. I missed our friends, but Pony hadn't seen his family in ages…he'd been alone for so long. Instead, I stayed where I was, curled up on the floor in a nest of blankets. I missed having a bed or a couch to sleep on, but I wasn't about to take Pony's spot. He'd offered more than once, now that he was feeling better, but I still wasn't about to take him up on it. He barely slept as it was…I heard him tossing and turning, and some nights he'd cry in his sleep, muttering and making noise until he'd wake up with a gasp, whimpering in his pillow.

I never said anything about it. He hadn't reacted well when I'd said something about his arms, and I knew he couldn't stand to talk about it. I guess I knew why…he was ashamed. Ashamed and scared of people finding out. I was always the same when people had asked about my bruises…or when they'd notice how I'd about jump at my own shadow. Pony was good about never saying anything to me about it. The guys were pretty good too, although sometimes Two-Bit would scare me and then feel bad about it. That was pretty bad too.

Things were just about back to normal at the shop. Pony did all of the bottom shelves and I did anything that required a ladder. That way, we could pretty much split everything up. Ponyboy had offered to climb up on the ladder, but I was worried about him falling off, so I told him he could do the mopping. He'd just grinned, agreeing pretty fast. I think he was a little worried too.

It was Monday evening and the store was about to close. Marcus hadn't shown up to walk Sue home…most nights he did, but not always. Mr. Williams was in the back doing paperwork or something. There were only about three people left in the store, two older women and a girl that Sue was chatting with at the register. She was the same girl Sue had been talking to at church, and every once in a while I'd feel her eyes on us. Pony glanced at me, confused, a few times, and I just shrugged.

I looked around the store from where I stood on the ladder, glad there weren't many people left. Usually, the store cleared out early and Sue would go home right as the store closed, then Mr. Williams a little while later, leaving Pony and me to close up. Once, when Ponyboy had been sick, an old lady hadn't wanted to leave, and Mr. Williams had stayed open a few minutes late to let her check out. He'd been irritated but told me that as long as people were buying things, he could stay in business. I guess he was right, but I think he'd rather people buy things when he was actually open. It was just him and Sue at his house, I think, and he didn't like her walking home alone at night.

He reminded me of Mr. Curtis a lot…and Darry too. Sure, Pony had always tagged along with Sodapop and Darry for as long as I could remember, but part of it was their parents, too. I'd heard Mr. and Mrs. Curtis telling Darry to keep an eye on Pony since we'd first met, and once or twice, Mr. Curtis had asked Two-Bit too, since he was the oldest. Two had almost always been happy to look after us, hanging around and keeping an eye out. When Soda or Darry couldn't give Pony a ride home from school, Two-Bit or Dally would walk with him or give him a lift home, me usually tagging along.

The door to the shop slammed against the wall, jerking me out of my thoughts. In the doorway was a white guy with hair so red it was almost orange, followed by two greasy looking hoods. Other than me and Pony, I'd never seen another white person in the store. I don't know if it was the part of town, or if people just knew somehow, but it was like there was a sign on the door or something.

Either way, these didn't look like the kinds of guys who did their grocery shopping around here…or at all. I glanced down at Pony who was looking up at me, leaning against the shelf he was restocking, his face drawn and worried. The guys gave us a once over, me on a ladder and Pony crouching down, putting cans on the bottom shelf. Sue stopped her conversation with her friend, and both girls turned to stare at the guy, exchanging glances and then standing real tall and facing the guys like they were ready to rumble or something.

Ponyboy stood upright real slow, putting the can back on the shelf and looking pretty tough as he shoved his hands in his pockets. I climbed down from the ladder, jumping when I reached the next to last rung and landing beside him. Pony was taller than me by quite a bit now…I figured he was about Soda's height, but he was slouching, so I propped my elbow on his shoulder. The red-head grinned at me and Pony, apparently unimpressed, then the three hoods ambled toward the shelves. One of them broke off from the group, heading over toward Sue at the front. The red-head and his friend grinned at us, then passed us by, examining the shelves we'd just restocked. Pony had his eye on Sue who was standing real straight at the counter.

"Can I help you?" She asked, her voice firm and clear. I glanced back at the other two and caught the second hood putting a candy bar in his pocket.

"Hey man, you gotta pay for that," I told him, hoping I sounded like Dallas...tough like I was ready to fight over it. Back home, Dally and Two-Bit had stolen things all the time…heck, I had too, once or twice. But I worked here, and Mr. Williams didn't deserve to have things stolen from his store. Beside me, Pony glanced back, glaring at the two, but keeping his focus on Sue. The two older ladies who had been shopping hurried toward the exit, both of them leaving their shopping baskets on the shelves and not even sparing a look at the hoods in the store.

The guy with the candy bar in his pocket looked me up and down, snorting. "Yeah? Who's gonna make me?" I stepped forward, about to inform him that I was, when Pony stiffened beside me.

"Now…where are you running off to, sweetheart?" The hood at the counter asked Sue, and I realized he'd grabbed her arm. "We just got here."

Pony strolled right up to him and put a hand on his shoulder like it was Steve or Two-Bit instead of some New York hood who'd probably stab him as soon as look at him. "Let her go." He told the guy, his voice so mean and cold I wondered if he was imitating Dally too. The guy turned to face my friend, towering over him and grinning.

"What did you say?" He asked, his tone real nice and casual, but Pony still had a grip on his arm. At least the guy had let go of Sue. Suddenly the guys behind me were heading up to the front of the store to join in on the action. I blocked them, figuring this was going to hurt, but I couldn't let them all gang up on Pony either.

"Go on, Sue." Pony ordered, jerking his head at the storeroom door and letting go of the guy who he'd had a hold of. "Go." She grabbed her friend's arm, both of them racing to the back, and the guy reached into his pocket. I started to yell a warning, but someone was coming at me and I turned, ducking the fist that came flying at my face. I brought up my own fists, striking the red-head in the nose as hard as I could, then stepping up and kneeing the other one. The red-head got me on the cheek then, knocking me back, and the other one shoved me back against the shelves.

I was on the ground before I knew it, my hands up as I tried to protect my face. They were grabbing at my hands but I kept kicking and punching. They only got a few good hits in, and I managed to get back on my feet somehow, trying to get a look at Pony, but they were blocking him. The redhead's friend tackled me then, and I just barely managed to keep my head from cracking against the floor, doing my best to shove him off of me. The redhead gave me a kick in the side that felt like a jolt had gone through me, but I didn't think anything was broken. Then suddenly, the guy sitting on me was gone.

I opened my eyes, my stomach flying up to my throat. In the doorway to the back room, Mr. Williams was standing still, his jaw tight and a baseball bat limp in his hand, Sue and her friend peeking out from behind him. By the front counter, one hood was laying face down, mouth open, and what looked like a tooth was sitting beside him in a little red puddle. Beside him was a busted bottle of coca-cola and glass and a puddle of soda was on the ground around him.

Another hood was curled up beside me, cupping himself and gasping as he rocked back and forth, blood spattered all over his face. And a few feet away, Ponyboy was sitting on the redhead's chest, his fist pulling back and slamming into the guy's face over and over.

It only took a second for me to realize what was happening and I jumped up, grabbing Ponyboy's fist before he could hit the guy again. He was already missing a tooth from what I could tell, his mouth open, eyes closed. Beside them on the floor was a can of green beans that I figured Pony had used to hit him on the head. Pony didn't fight me when I caught his fist, just spun around, wide-eyed, then his whole body seemed to slump as he stared back down at the hood. There were four drops of blood on his cheek, bright red against his pale face.

"Come on, man…get up. Get off him." I urged, pulling him up and away from the guy. His hands were covered in blood, the knuckles split open. He would have a black eye, and I figured I would too. His mouth was dripping blood, and he was panting like he'd just run a race. Scariest of all, though, were his eyes. Wide open and unseeing, he stared at me, following dully when I led him away. Mr. Williams stared between us and the guys on the floor, then came into the store fully, letting the door shut behind him. "They were gonna hurt Sue…he thought they were gonna hurt her. And two of 'em had me. They were trying to steal stuff..." I tried to explain, tugging my friend along. Mr. Williams nodded real slow, his eyes still on Ponyboy. "I'm sorry. We'll clean it up. Get them out of here…we'll take care of it."

"Michael?" Mr. Williams asked, close enough to reach out now, but Pony was just staring at the floor. I shook him, and when he looked up at me, his eyes were wet, and his hands started shaking as he glanced down at them.

"They were gonna hurt her…like they did Li. I couldn't…" I gripped his shoulders then, hoping he wouldn't start spilling his guts in front of Mr. Williams.

"Give us a minute." I practically begged, pulling Pony away and back to the very back of the store where we leaned against the wall. He followed me dumbly, then slid down until he was sitting. After a second, I joined him on the floor. "Pony?" I murmured. I'd never seen my friend like that…I never wanted to again. He would have killed that hood, I was sure of it.

"They were gonna hurt her. I couldn't let them hurt her. Or you…they were hurting you and…"

"It's fine. Pony, it's fine. They're still alive. You didn't kill 'em or nothing." I tried to make my voice light, but he didn't smile. Glancing up when I heard footsteps, I found Mr. Williams standing at the end of the aisle and staring at my friend.

"They were gonna hurt her…like they hurt Lianne." He repeated. I swore under my breath, but I couldn't make him stop. "They hurt her…they had her behind the bar and they were going to hurt Sue…" I threw my arms around him, tight like Soda would. Of course he wasn't over it. He'd watched them. He was only fifteen and he'd watched a group of men kill a girl. And that probably wasn't all he'd seen. Then they'd nearly killed him. That wasn't something you just got over. He'd had that look in his eyes like I sometimes saw from the guys who came back from the war…vacant and scared and not all there. "They were gonna hurt you and…and…" He trailed off, shaking in my arms, and I squeezed him hard.

Mr. Williams came over slowly, tentative, and sat on the floor beside us, kneeling down. "Patrick…I think you need to tell me what just happened." He gestured toward my friend who was still shaking against my shoulder…I guess those guys had brought all those memories back. He'd been doing pretty good so far, so I couldn't blame him. I made up a story fast, keeping some of it true and my voice low.

"There was a girl lived with the foster family he got put with," I told our boss, hoping the news of what had happened back in Tulsa hadn't made it up to New York. "He and that girl were walking to school and they got attacked by a bunch of men…they killed the girl. He just barely got away...but he saw the whole thing." Mr. Williams stared at Ponyboy's back for a long time, looking horrified and a little scared. "He didn't want to let them hurt Sue. He wouldn't have killed them or nothing." That wasn't true. He absolutely would have killed them. I'd seen that look in Dally's eyes before when he was beating on a soc before a cop or Darry pulled him off. I could tell Mr. Williams didn't quite believe me, but he nodded.

"Get him home. You two can come in at four tomorrow and make up the hours if he's feeling alright. We'll take care of things here. You two ought not be around when the cops come…I'll just tell them that two neighborhood boys did this and took off." He glanced back, and I followed his gaze and found Sue looking real pale, staring at Ponyboy as he cried into my shoulder. "Sue, get the mop from the back. Tell Tessa to stay until we're done here…I'll call her parents." He turned back to us. "Go on, get home. Both of you." I nodded, jumping to my feet and grabbing Pony and pulling him up.

"I didn't mean to…" Pony muttered.

"Yeah I know," I assured him, watching Sue throw one more glance over her shoulder then hurry to the back. "Let's get home."

"What about work?" He asked, bewildered. Apparently, he hadn't heard any of our conversation, which worried me, but we needed to get back to the apartment soon before the fuzz showed up.

"We're done with work. It's time to go." I told him.

"I didn't mean to…"

"You didn't kill them, Pony, just beat the crap out of 'em." I assured him quietly. "You ain't in any trouble. We just better get home before the cops get here." He nodded, apparently accepting that even though it was still light out, and followed me silently back to James's place.

 **Thank you for reading!**


	34. Anxious Nights

Anxious Nights

Something had happened. I'd done something. Something bad. Johnny was pulling me down the street, his arm around me as he led me back to the apartment. We'd been at work…and…someone had been hurting Sue. Or something like that. I'd been putting things away on the shelf…I'd been feeling better. Johnny and me had been working together and going to the library and reading and hanging out around town. We'd gone to a movie a few days ago, too, but we were scared to spend too much of the money. During the evenings after work, sometimes James and his buddies would be over, usually Ed and Terry but sometimes other guys. They didn't seem too interested in us but they always invited us to play poker, and usually, we would, especially since they were sitting on the couch where I slept.

I'd gotten to talk to my brothers a handful of times, even though I was still too scared to call real often. Darry and Soda were awful worried, but I knew they were glad to hear from me. They wanted me to call more but I wasn't brave enough. I was worried about them too…and about Susie…and the rest of the guys. But I was trying to focus on work and whatever kind of life I had here in New York until the guys figured things out back home. Darry had promsed to take care of it and I was trying to trust him.

Church had been…interesting. I'd told Johnny that he didn't have to come if he didn't want to, but he had. He'd insisted. And we'd had a pretty good time…up until that guy had all but told the pastor he didn't want us there. That had been awkward…even worse than the first time I'd gone and everyone had stared at me funny. This time, Mr. Williams and Sue had let us sit with them…Marcus too. Sue's cousin was real quiet and not all that friendly, but he wasn't outright mean so he was fine with me. He looked after Sue and I had a feeling he was looking after us sometimes too. None of the other guys that came in ever bugged us. Johnny told me that one guy had been giving him weird looks and he'd been scared for a minute, but Marcus had pulled the guy aside and after that, everyone left him alone, just letting him do his job.

The pastor had stuck up for us, though, even after everything some other guys had done to cause trouble. It probably helped that we worked for Mr. Williams. Still, it had been nice for him to tell us we were welcome to come back. He'd seemed like a real nice man, and it was good to have another almost-friend in the city. And then we'd been back to work…doing good and making money. Mr. Williams had given us our first paycheck, and he hadn't even docked our pay from all the time I'd taken off. Johnny and I had gone and got groceries, then bought movie tickets and popcorn. It had been great…almost like back home. Most of the money, though, we'd put in that duffle bag I'd brought from Dally's. It was the first money we'd put aside for the bus tickets we'd need to get back home.

Then those guys had come into the store. I'd known something was wrong right off. Johnny had too. They'd been looking for trouble, and Sue had been scared. Then…the next thing I knew, one of them was grabbing Sue, and two more of them were after Johnny. I'd managed to knock out the one who'd grabbed Sue after getting her to run. Unlike the first time I'd ordered her to run, she had actually listened, dragging her friend along. Then I'd busted a pop bottle over the guy's head as hard as I could, not paying any attention when he'd hit his face on the floor. I still wasn't in great shape from being sick for so long, but I'd been faster and he'd been somewhat drunk judging from his breath. Then I'd turned to find two of them beating on Johnny.

I couldn't let them hurt Johnny. He was all I had. He was my best friend. He'd come all the way from Tulsa to help me. I couldn't be alone. Not again. I couldn't let these men take everything away from me…not like Richard. And then…then Johnny had been sitting across from me on the floor on the other end of the store, my hands split open and covered in blood. Sue had looked at me like she'd never seen me before…Mr. Williams too. They stared at me like I was a killer. They thought I was like Richard. A murderer. Was I? I'd almost killed those guys. I'd stared down at the redheaded one and I'd hit him over and over…I remembered that much. What the hell was wrong with me?

I was different from the other guys…my brothers too. I mean, Darry and Soda weren't mean or nothing, but they were good fighters and I think they liked rumbles. I always just kind of went along so people wouldn't think I was a coward. When it came to fighting one on one, I wasn't real good at it. Usually one of the guys would help me out. I didn't like hurting people, even socs unless they wanted to hurt me first. Even then, I didn't think it was fun. But now...I'd almost killed someone. I'd sat on top of him and hit him again and again until he wasn't moving, and then I'd hit him some more.

James glanced up when we stepped through the front door, looking confused, then freezing when he got a good look at us. He put his bowl down on the table beside him, standing up and staring at me. "What the hell…who got ahold of you two? Why ain't you at work?" I suddenly remembered when he hadn't given a shit about me and kind of missed it. I didn't want him asking questions…I didn't want to have to explain. Johnny had my back though, patting my shoulder.

"Some guys came into the store where we worked…started messing with people. They came after us and Ponyboy and me fought 'em off." He explained, making it all sound real simple.

"Yeah? What did they look like?"

"The guy leading them had real bright red hair. The other two had dark hair and one of 'em had a couple of tattoos." I didn't remember that. All I remembered was the one guy's red hair. It had almost reminded me of Two-Bit.

"Red hair huh…" He trailed off. "You catch his name?"

"Nah. I think they're still there though…"

"The two of you took out three guys?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow and glancing down at my hands. I just shrugged, but Johnny nodded.

"Yeah."

James snorted. "Yeah, alright." He trailed off. "Kid, you okay?" I was quiet until he snapped his fingers under my nose, making me jump a little. "Hey, kid! You okay?" I nodded then, my hands shaking at my sides, and I couldn't even try to hide it. "I think I know who it is…I'll be back before morning." He told us, nodding and grabbing something off the table…a knife that he stuffed in his back pocket. "Stay inside." He ordered, practically pointing a finger in our faces. "I mean it…until I get back, keep the door locked."

"What's going on?" I asked, feeling like I was coming out of a fog.

"There's some guys from the other side of town…like to cause trouble for people around here…" He hesitated, then crossed his arms. "Your boss, what color is he?"

"Black." Johnny answered, glancing at me. James sighed and nodded.

"Great." He muttered, turning and slamming the door behind him with a final 'stay inside' thrown over his shoulder before he left.

"Come on, man. Sit down."

"I'm fine." I shrugged him off, heading into the bathroom.

"Ponyboy…"

"I'm fine. Just…wanna get cleaned up." I called, closing the bathroom door behind me and climbing into the shower. Blood ran down my hands and the hot water stung my knuckles. It was a familiar feeling. I'd done this plenty of times after a rumble, the guys and me taking turns patching each other up. Usually, Soda would pour peroxide on my hands and wrap them up. I'd do the same for him…or for Darry. They'd taught me when I was ten or eleven and they'd come home from a rumble, trying not to get caught by our parents. I hadn't ratted them out. I never would have.

After I got cleaned up, I poured some of the alcohol onto my knuckles, flinching and biting back a cry. Glory, it stung. Still, I rubbed ointment onto hands and then headed into the living room where I found Johnny sitting on the couch, waiting for me, the radio playing quietly on the table beside him. I sat beside him, staring straight ahead, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. "I don't know what happened." I finally told him, shrugging my shoulders. "I just…I remember them walking in. I remember one of 'em talking to Sue…then two of them were on top of you and…they weren't going to stop. So neither was I."

"Pony, it's alright."

"I would have killed them if you hadn't stopped me." He was quiet, and I sighed, going on. "I was gonna kill him, Johnny."

"I know."

"I was never…I never did that before." My voice was weak and too young and I hated myself for it. Johnny put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing.

"You've been through a lot, man. You know? It's been rough for you, and that guy you lived with really hurt you. You watched them kill someone, and you thought they were gonna do the same to me or Sue. I don't blame you for how you acted. Hell, Pony, you remember what happened with Bob. He was gonna kill you, and I was ready to kill him first." Yeah…I remembered. I remembered Johnny pulling me out of the fountain and coughing up water, feeling like I'd never get warm again. I remembered Bob's friends dragging him away and being scared one of them was gonna turn around and come after us again. I nodded, laying my head back against the sofa. "Mr. Williams is gonna take care of those guys, and James is gonna do something…" He shrugged. "Who knows what." He was quiet for a minute, then turned to me. "You want chicken for dinner?" He asked, standing up and holding out a hand.

"Sure." I grabbed his hand and jumped up to join him, both of us heading into the kitchen and trying to focus on making dinner. "You wanna call your brothers?" Johnny asked, preheating the oven. I cut the chicken out of the package and started making the seasoning. My mom had taught all of us to cook, me on a chair beside her, helping her make seasoning while Darry and Soda would help our dad with the sides. A few times, Soda would start snapping towels when he got bored, or Darry would come over and crouch down a little, letting me climb on his back, and he'd give me a piggyback ride around the house while our mother had wondered out loud if she lived in a barn. She'd always laughed though. That thought sent a sharp pain right through my chest and I wanted to start bawling.

I didn't want to tell my brothers what I'd done. And they'd know if something was wrong, Sodapop especially. They'd know I was hiding something and they'd worry. I shook my head, dipping the chicken in the flour and then placing it on the baking sheet. "Nah. I'll call tomorrow." He didn't ask, and I didn't offer any more information. Johnny just nodded, pushing the baking tray into the oven.

Darry would be worried. Maybe angry. I was getting us into trouble…Mr. Williams could have handled it. Probably. I mean, he had a baseball bat. Or we could have thrown them out. But beating the shit out of him…hitting one of them over and over until his teeth fell out and his face was little more than a bloody pulp…that was something Dallas would do when he was angry. Something even Steve might do, if someone made him mad enough, even though Soda could usually rein him in. Darry would say I was being reckless…and if he found out I could barely even remember doing it, then he'd be worried. Maybe he'd think I was losing it. Or maybe he'd worry I was turning into Dally…dangerous and mean.

Soda would be beyond worried. I didn't go around beating people up, which my brothers saw as a good thing. I fought in rumbles, and I defended myself when I had to, but I didn't nearly kill people…I didn't sit on top of them and hit them over and over until someone else had to step in. I was his little brother. I read books and went to movies and kept to myself and…glory, I didn't do this kind of stuff! What was the matter with me? Sure, I'd wanted to protect Sue and Johnny, but…what if I did something like this again?

Johnny and I ate in almost silence. I knew he wanted to talk about it, but I was scared to bring it up or even try to. I knew what he was probably thinking…that I was losing it. That I wasn't reliable or that he'd have to look after me to make sure I didn't hurt someone or something. I hated it. I'd hated it when I was younger and my brothers had treated me like a baby, making sure the guys kept a close eye on me and didn't let me go off on my own anywhere. Now it would be the same. But even as I brought a bite of chicken up to my mouth, my hands were shaking and I felt like I could start crying any minute. They could treat me like a baby all they wanted if I could just see them again.

When we were done cleaning up, I went back to the living room and grabbed a library book while Johnny headed off to the shower, both of us quiet. Last week, when I'd been feeling better, Johnny had taken James's new library card and we'd returned the books he'd gotten us, trading them out for new ones. Mostly they were just mysteries and old classics, and we tore through them whenever we were off work, usually after breakfast until it was time to leave, sometimes leaving to take a walk around town when we couldn't stand being cooped up anymore.

We were trying to save up as much as we could for the bus ticket back home so we didn't go out much…plus I wanted to give Darry and Soda some money when I got home, and hopefully, that would help pay if they'd gotten a lawyer or just with the bills. Johnny was saving a lot of his money too, but I didn't know why, other than the ticket back home. Maybe just to spend so he wouldn't have to bum off the guys.

I was laying on the sofa, covered up, my back to the living room, when he finally got out of the shower. I'd given up on the book a few minutes in and curled up under the blanket. I'd offered to switch a few times so he could have a turn on the sofa but he kept saying no, so I'd given up for the moment. I heard his soft footsteps and then the light was switched off, Johnny probably laying down in his nest of blankets on the floor a few feet away.

It was silent for a few minutes, then he got up again, and the radio was turned on real low. "Thanks, man," I muttered, and I heard him hum on the other side of the living room, somewhat acknowledging me. I always fell asleep better when there was something in the background, which I guess he knew. I felt kind of bad, then, about ignoring him, but I didn't know how to talk about this any more than I already had, so I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Richard was standing in the doorway, Rita and Lianne beside me, and I felt the cold fear tight in my stomach as he clenched his fists, glaring at me. Lianne was crying…it was her second week in that hellhole, and during the day she was as tough as anyone, but at night, I was finding, we were all younger. He'd only gotten her once…on a night when he'd caught her coming in late. I'd been with Rita and he hadn't come in her bedroom that night…he'd got Lianne in the living room instead. We hadn't known until she'd come into the room later…Rita had tried to hug her but Lianne had punched her right in the nose, not saying another word as she'd crawled into bed.

Now he was smiling at me. He never smiled at me. He stepped into the room and Lianne was sobbing and Rita was curled up at the top of her bed, covers tight around her, and I clenched my fists, feeling the pain in every part of my body and not caring. I couldn't let him do this. Darry would never let this happen. Sodapop, neither. They wouldn't let this man hurt me either, but they weren't here to protect me. I was here to protect these girls, though, even though one of them was older and taller than me, but not by much.

He lunged, grabbing my throat and shoving me back against the footboard of her bed so hard, I'd had a bruise for weeks, and I'd barely been able to walk the next day. I scratched and clawed and kicked like a wild animal, screaming and making noise, hoping to get his wife or a neighbor to notice. I mean, his wife wouldn't stop him, but he wouldn't hurt the girls in front of her. Not like _that_ anyway. When it came to his fists, we were all fair game, all the time.

I was about to black out as he held my throat, but I managed to get a knee in his stomach, then shoved him back as he doubled over, my knee coming up again and busting his nose. He got ahold of me again somehow, though, and he was hitting me again and again until it didn't even hurt anymore…I just knew he was going to kill me, and I didn't care. Tears were streaming down my face and all I wanted was to see my brothers again…suddenly I was alone on the floor. No…not alone…he was on the bed and Rita was crying and I couldn't even move or scream but I was trying so hard.

"Pony? Pony wake up, man." My teeth were clenched around something and I could barely breathe. "Ponyboy, come on. Wake up!" Someone shook me and my eyes flew open, darting around the room as I realized I was biting a pillow and sobbing.

"What…what…?"

"It's me, Pony. You're in New York. We're in James's living room, remember?" I shook my head, not disagreeing but not able to believe him. "You're safe. It's alright, man."

I shook my head again, not able to stop the way my breath hitched. "She's not…" My voice broke as I gripped the pillow and he put a hand on my shoulder. "She's not safe…I couldn't save her."

"Who?" Johnny asked, rubbing my back.

"Either of them." I told him, miserable. "He killed Lianne…I was there and I couldn't stop him. And Rita…he can still hurt her."

Johnny put both hands on my shoulders and pulled me in, hugging me. "You did the best you could, Ponyboy. You tried."

"It wasn't enough." He sighed, his head against my shoulder, and I cried on him for a long time, feeling like a baby, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop remembering Lianne who'd fought back and Rita who hadn't, and Mark and Tyler and Tammy who'd let it all happen. And the social worker. I hated all of them and I didn't. I just wanted Sodapop and Darry. I wanted my family. But Johnny was with me and he cared and he'd come all this way to look after me so I hid my face against him and held him tight like I would Soda or Darry and he hugged me back.

I woke up again on the floor and it took me a long time to remember why. It clicked when I felt Johnny stir beside me, his arm thrown around my shoulder. I'd cried for so long, but then he'd pulled me over toward him, both of us going back to his nest of blankets and throwing them over us, his arm thrown around me just like Sodapop's. Soda had always stayed with me after nightmares, and it seemed Johnny would too. I loved him then, just as much as I loved Soda. Johnny wasn't my brother by blood, but he was as good as, and I was lucky to have him.

He didn't stir when I slipped out from under his arm, and I didn't wake him, figuring he'd been up for a while trying to help me feel better. I thought back to the night before and shuddered. I could have killed that guy and I didn't even regret it. Maybe I _was_ different. Maybe Richard had changed me. I hated the thought. I didn't want that asshole to have any kind of power over me, but maybe he did.

In the bathroom, I locked the door behind me, washing my hot face with cool water. My eyes were still wet and red from crying, and I wiped them off, hoping the puffiness went down. I didn't want James to know I'd been crying too. Toweling my face off, I stared at the mirror for the first time in a while. I wasn't as pale as I'd been when I was sick, but I still looked a lot thinner…my cheeks kind of sharp. My eyes were bloodshot. The scar that started at the corner of my eyes and went down to my nose, across my face, was red and sunken in, healing but still there. I reached up and brushed my finger across it…it didn't hurt anymore. Not really.

My eyes moved down to my arms, and I stared at the sleeves that went all the way to my wrists. Pulling one back just a little, I stared at the burn that no longer hurt…it was still darker than the skin around it. It wasn't the newest one. The newest one, the one he'd given me the day I'd left, was still white and red and gross looking, closer to my elbow. Johnny and James had seen it…they had to have. I felt like throwing up when I thought about it. My hands started shaking and I gripped the sink for a second, staring at my bloody, broken open knuckles, then pulled the side of my shirt up, staring at white bandage there. The cut was still wrapped in gauze, and I put alcohol on it every couple of days. It was looking better, though. Not infected anymore, anyway.

I went into the kitchen and pulled out a carton of eggs, scrambling them like I knew Johnny liked. I made toast, too, and broke out the package of bacon we'd bought with the money we'd made at the grocery store. I fried it and was heaping two plates when someone appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Hey kid, you got enough for one more?" I glanced over and nodded, grinning a little.

"Sure." I told James, heaping a plate with eggs and toast and bacon. I wasn't real hungry anyway. He took the plate with a muttered thanks and carried it to the living room. I left most of the food for Johnny and put a couple of bites of egg onto my own plate along with some toast, joining him on the couch. He glanced at Johnny, then back at me.

"None of those guys are dead or nothing…so there's that." He told me idly, taking a piece of bacon and practically swallowing it whole. "You kids sure can fight, huh?" I didn't answer, just stared miserably at my plate. He seemed to get the hint, going on. "The redhead…his name's Pete. Peter Cleary. Lives on the other side of town. Runs with a real tough group of guys…they like to come around here and start trouble. They set off fireworks in that black church down the road and beat up a couple of kids last year. They got my buddy Ed about three months ago. Nearly killed him…left him in a gutter. One of his guys jumped me a few days later, and then we all rumbled about a week before you got here…his guys and a bunch of ours, and since then, they've stayed off of our turf. Looks like they're back." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "The cops showed up to that grocery store, but your boss told them that a couple of neighborhood kids were there and beat them up. None of them ratted you out…I don't think they know who you are."

"Good." It was all I could really say. I didn't want this. I didn't want more trouble.

"Nope. Not good. I ain't about to let them mess with two kids staying with me. You're part of the gang now, kid."

"What gang?"

"Me, Ed and Terry…all of us. Guys we went to school with or grew up with. Guess it's the same where you live." I nodded but didn't answer, just stared at Johnny. He was still asleep, buried in blankets. I glanced over at the clock…eight in the morning. I remembered back when I was at home during the summer, I'd sleep until noon most days, going to bed at two or three in the morning…and Sodapop wouldn't come home until an hour or so later. Our parents had worried some, but he'd been good about telling them where he was going…or lying about it. When it had been just me and my brothers, Darry had wanted me home by midnight when it wasn't a school night. Soda could pretty much stay out as late as he wanted, but he was usually in by two since he had to work in the mornings. "Kid?"

"Yeah?"

"You with me?" He asked, almost sounding concerned.

"Yeah."

"Cause you sound like you did last night..." He glanced down at my hands, then ate his other piece of bacon. "You going in early today? To make up for last night?"

"I guess so."

"How the hell did you two beat up those three on your own? I saw Pete's face…looks like you put him through a meat grinder." He snorted.

"I just kept hitting him." I told him, staring down at my uneaten food. "I just…kept hitting him until Johnny pulled me off. I would have kept on…"

"Yeah…wouldn't have been any great loss." He told me with a shrug. I grabbed a piece of toast and nibbled at it. I remembered when I used to eat a lot. All three of us had. It had stopped when they'd taken me away from my brothers. I'd barely been able to eat a bite at that boy's home. Everything had tasted like ash and dust in my mouth…it had been worse when I'd been living with Richard and his family. But I'd had to eat…no matter how awful everything had tasted, I'd still tried. I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep fighting that asshole if I didn't, so I'd tried. I thought of Darry and Sodapop when I did. "You getting sick again?"

"No. Are you guys gonna rumble again?" I asked, taking a real bite of the toast that tasted like dirt. On the ground, Johnny rolled over again, wrapped in his blankets.

"Maybe. They'll be laid up for a while. When you think you two are gonna finally go home?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "We gotta wait for…well, for things to be safe I guess."

"From that asshole that did all that to you?"

"Yeah. Him and his buddies." I admitted. "Cops and stuff. They wanna kill me 'cause I saw something."

"Huh." He put down his plate and glanced down at my arms. "How are things gonna be safe, then?"

"My brothers have friends. A cop they trust, too…they just need one of the kids in that place to come forward and tell everyone what he does to the kids."

"What did you see him do?" He wondered. I shuddered.

"Lots of stuff." I told him as I headed into the kitchen, taking my plate and dropping it into the sink. As I stood there, half washing it and half staring at the wall, there were footsteps behind me, and I jumped when someone touched my shoulder, swearing under my breath and jumping away.

"Sorry." Johnny grinned at me, and I did my best to return the smile.

"Hey. Breakfast is on the stove." He thanked me, grabbing the plate and digging in, even though it was probably a little cold. "You sleep alright on the floor?"

"Yeah, fine…why don't we swap? I'll sleep on the floor and…"

"Nah, man. I ain't taking the sofa." I sighed, giving up immediately. It was a conversation we'd had plenty of times. "You wanna call your brothers?" I thought back to my bloody knuckles and shook my head, putting the clean plate in a dish drainer. I wasn't going to call them just yet…not until my hands finally stopped shaking every time I thought about it. Not until I could talk without them knowing something was going on…without worrying them even more.

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!**


	35. Phone Numbers

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I hope you enjoy the chapter! :)**

Phone Numbers

Sodapop leaned over the counter, grinning at the girl holding a bottle of coke, their faces so close they were almost touching. I mean, I knew he needed a distraction with his brother gone, and I knew Sandy had dumped him and everything, but glory, did this guy ever stop flirting with girls? Keith had dropped me off here two hours ago and it had been non-stop. Steve was out back fixing cars, and honestly, I was thinking about joining him instead. It was cleaner in here, but Sodapop and the brunette were gonna start making out any moment if that look on her face was anything to go by.

"What time do you get off?" She asked him, pushing her boobs out, and I rolled my eyes, sighing loudly and jumping off the back counter where I'd been sitting, trying to read a book. "That your kid sister or something?" She asked, quieter as she glanced at me, and I put the book under my arm.

"Nah, I'm babysitting." He told her, shooting me a look.

"Is that what you call…that?" I asked, gesturing vaguely at the girl's chest which she was resting on the counter, and Sodapop clenched his jaw a little. I mean, I appreciated him looking after me…I'd been with one of his gang or my brother every day, all day, and I sure felt safer, but this was boring. Darrel was working late and Keith wouldn't let me go to with Dally to Buck's…Dally was the most fun to hang out with if I had to choose. He taught me how to fight sometimes, or we'd play cards…he took me to the library too, and once, to a drag race, but had made me promise not to tell Keith. When some guy started bugging me, he'd put an arm around my shoulder, blowing smoke in his face, and threatened to…well…do serious damage to the guy's nether regions.

When I'd asked him if he'd really meant it, he'd looked almost embarrassed, telling me not to repeat stuff like that, and I'd promised not to tell Keith…or Darry. Darrel Curtis wasn't my big brother or anything, but sometimes he acted like it, and he was so big I wasn't about to disobey him. Not openly, anyway. Then he'd found us seats and the rest of the night had been uneventful. Watching the races was fun, since Keith never let me go. I could sneak and do it but I was always scared him or one of his friends would be there and they'd rat me out for sure. I wasn't really part of the gang, just Keith's little sister. Not like Ponyboy.

Thinking about Ponyboy being gone made me feel bad for Sodapop. He was just trying to distract himself, and the pretty brunette was more than willing to distract him. I was just getting in the way. Lots of my friends had crushes on Sodapop, but to be honest, even though he was real handsome and everything, I preferred his little brother, something I wouldn't tell anyone for nothing. Especially not Keith, who'd tease him _and_ me. Pony was quiet and real nice most of the time, and he was just as good-looking as Sodapop, to me anyway. I liked hanging out with him, too, and he wasn't embarrassed to hang out with a girl like other guys our age.

"I'm gonna go help Steve with the cars." I told him, lifting an eyebrow at the brunette, knowing it made me look kind of like Keith. "Good luck." I told her, and she snorted while Sodapop barked out a laugh. Heading back to the garage in the back, I found Steve's legs poking out from underneath a jacked up pickup truck, lying on a towel. I leaned onto the front of the truck, staring down at him in the gaps between the engine and other stuff I couldn't name until he jumped a little, meeting my eyes.

"What?" He barked, and I shrugged.

"Nothing. What are you doing?"

"Changing the oil."

"How come?"

"Oil has to be changed or it fu…or it screws with your engine."

"How come?"

"Just does." He told me, obviously distracted.

"How often do you gotta do it?"

"Every few months. Wanna hand me that wrench on by your foot?" I glanced around, finding it on the floor, and grabbed it, dropping to my knees and crawling down to lay beside him on the towel. He muttered a 'thanks' and started unscrewing something. I flipped over on my back, watching the oil drain into a bucket in silence. I'd never been under a car before, and I looked around, curious, but not curious enough to learn more. "Thought you were reading or something."

"Got bored," I told him, deciding against informing him of Sodapop's new brunette buddy. "Can't I just walk home? It ain't far."

"You know you can't."

"C'mon, Steve." I whined. "Anybody bugs me, I'll knife 'em!" He snorted, reaching up and retightening something or another.

"Two-Bit'll kill me if I let you go somewhere alone."

"Have you guys heard from Ponyboy?" I asked, making him pause and look at me, a kind of weird expression on his face. I knew his foster siblings were all gone...the girl had turned eighteen and split, and the boys had left right before their own birthdays. That's where Keith was off so much these days...looking for anyone around that place that would help us out. So far, even with Tim's help, they'd had no luck.

"Uh…yeah. Soda talked to him a couple of days ago."

"How come he don't call more often?"

"You'd have to ask him, Suze." He started to crawl out from under the truck and I shimmied out, using the truck to pull myself up and brushing the dirt off my shirt and pants. I started to tell him I couldn't since he never seemed to call when I was around…or awake, but then remembered the phone number taped to Darrel's refrigerator. I sure wasn't brave enough to try and call, though. Didn't want to irritate the guy he was living with.

"Do you think it'll ever be safe for him to come back?" I didn't just mean that…I also wanted to know if it would ever be safe for me to be alone. He nodded, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, kid. We're gonna make sure that ass…that jerk gets put away, then it'll be safe."

"But how?" He sighed.

"I don't know. But we'll figure it out, even if we have to use Tim and his guys."

"Will they kill him?" He glanced around like Keith was gonna pop out of a garbage can and yell at him for corrupting his sister. That didn't happen though, of course, and he nodded.

"Yeah. That's Tim's solution. Kill a couple of them, then bring Ponyboy back to talk about what happened." I knew Steve didn't get along with Ponyboy too well, but the way he talked made me think he really missed his best friend's brother. Or maybe he just wanted to help his friend out.

Deciding to leave him to his work, I grabbed my book and one of the milk crates they used to sit on. They were so uncomfortable I'd almost sit on the ground, but the ground was filthy with oil and grease and car parts. I'd never get any of that crap out of my clothes, so I resigned myself to the milk crate, trying to get comfortable and failing. Opening the book, I tried not to think about it.

Steve was busy with another car and from what I could tell, the gas station was busy, so I figured I'd get out of the way. The book was Ponyboy's. He'd told me I could borrow any of his books I wanted and I was currently making my way through the Carpetbaggers, which I think was Darry's, but it was so boring I figured I'd return it. If Keith took any kind of interest in what I read, I think he would have taken it away from me, since it talked about sex and stuff, kind of like his dirty magazines. I didn't see why he cared so much if I saw those…I knew what naked girls looked like. I had a mirror…even though I didn't much look like those girls.

I did my best to concentrate on the book until I felt someone watching me. Figuring Steve or Sodapop had come out to check on me, I glanced up, freezing at the sight of the girl. Her hair was up and tucked in a baseball cap, and she was leaning against light post across the street. Our eyes met and she lifted a finger, gesturing for me to come over. I looked back at the garage…Steve was under a car. He wouldn't notice I was gone if I hurried. I didn't recognize her, and I was aware that the asshole who'd hurt Ponyboy had friends around. Still, this girl didn't look like the kind of person to pal around with an abusive foster parent.

Jumping up and leaving my book, I crossed the street. The DX faced the other street, so Sodapop wouldn't see me, but I didn't want to risk Steve catching me, even though I didn't know if I was doing anything wrong. I guess I could have just told them she was a friend from school or something. Letting curiosity win, I turned to the girl. As I got closer that she had a black eye and a busted lip. "What happened to you?" I asked, not able to help it. I didn't see lots of girls that were beat up, even around here.

"I got a real asshole for a boyfriend." She told me with a smirk. "Are you related to Sodapop and Darrel Curtis?" She didn't look like she thought I was, cause the question was real skeptical, and I shook my head.

"Nope. I'm their friend's sister. Who're you?"

"Which friend?" She asked, ignoring my question.

"Keith Matthews." She nodded, pursing her lips. "I'm Susan," I told her.

After a moment, she glanced back at the garage, then at me. "Susan, I'm Rita. I was Ponyboy's foster sister." I felt my mouth drop open and immediately glanced around, looking for Sodapop or Steve. Neither of them were around, and she grabbed my wrist. "Don't." She warned.

"Don't what?" I asked, trying to pull away.

"Don't call for them."

Incredulous, I lowered my voice. "They've been trying to find you…"

"I know…"

"I thought you were out of that house." She touched her black eye, sighing.

"I need a favor." Rita told me, not acknowledging that.

"What kind of favor?" I asked, wary.

"Ponyboy's alive." She told me, crossing her arms. I crossed my own, lifting an eyebrow and channeling my tough big brother. "Richard is after you guys…two of 'em came after you right?" I just nodded. "He wouldn't be after Ponyboy's brothers if the kid was dead. He lived." She wasn't asking me a question so I was quiet. "I need to know where he is."

"I don't know," I told her, glancing back across the parking lot. Still not Steve or Sodapop.

"You don't know or you won't tell me?"

I snorted, incredulous. "Both."

"Please, Susan." She sighed, letting her arms hang at her sides. "I...I just want to talk to him. And then…maybe I can help." Something in her tone stopped me. As far as I knew, her and Ponyboy hadn't been close. According to the guys, they'd barely had any kind of relationship at all. But she was acting like she missed him or something. I felt a pang in my stomach. Maybe…maybe they'd been close? _Real_ close? I mean, she was older than him…did that matter? The thought kind of bugged me, but I didn't have time to think about that.

"Help?" I asked.

"Talk to the cops. Make it safe for him to come back somehow…something." She shrugged. "I just…I really need to talk to him first."

"I really don't know where he is." I told her, my voice real quiet, my stomach doing flips. "I swear. None of us do." Well, Dallas did, but I didn't want to tell her that. Then it hit me…I did know something. And if she would talk…all of this could be over. Darrel and Sodapop could get their brother back and I wouldn't have to be babysat all the time and…everything could go back to normal. "I can get the phone number of the place he's staying." I almost whispered.

"Seriously?" She leaned in, starting to reach for me, but dropping her hands at the last second.

"How come you won't talk to any of the guys?" I asked. She gave me a look, almost disbelieving. "They've been trying to look for you…they need you to talk about what Richard did to Ponyboy. The other two ain't gonna talk! They disappeared. And you're the last chance they've got to get Ponyboy back." She just stared at me, her jaw tight. "Sodapop and Darry don't know what to do. They miss him so much. We _all_ do. It ain't right he should have to hide from that asshole." The girl stared at me for a long time and I found myself glancing back at the garage where, thankfully, neither Sodapop nor Steve was outside looking for me.

"Get me the number and I'll think about it." She told me suddenly, jaw tight. "Can you have it by tomorrow?"

"I don't even know if I'll be here tomorrow." I stalled. If I did this and it went wrong…if that guy found Pony somehow…if he hurt him…it would be all my fault. Could he find Ponyboy based on a phone number? Would the guys find out I'd given it out? Could I trust this girl? Most importantly, was this our only option? My heart raced and my palms started to sweat. What if I could save him?

"Can you meet me somewhere? Without your bodyguards?" She prompted.

I wasn't sure, honestly. Steve didn't work tomorrow, but Sodapop did. I wasn't sure what Keith's plans were. Darry wasn't working either. "I'll try to meet you at the library." I gave in after a moment. "I can't promise when…"

"I'll hang out there all day." She grinned a little.

"Maybe sometimes in the afternoon?" I suggested. "I can't promise but…I'll try…"

"Sure." She agreed immediately. I wasn't sure how I'd pull it off, but I'd figure it out.

"I'd better get back before one of them notices I'm gone," I told her, voice weak.

"Okay." She took a step back, and I hurried back across the street, parking back on the milk crate with Darry's book that I couldn't focus on anymore. I just stared at the same page, my eyes going in and out of focus, mind racing until a hand landed on my shoulder and I about fell off the milk crate, my hand going to my pocket where Keith's knife was.

"Woah there, kid!" Steve jumped back, hands up as he chuckled. "Don't stab." He had his eyebrow lifted, smirking, and I sighed, hoping he couldn't see it on my face.

"Hey. Sorry…time to go?" He shook his head.

"Nah. Me and Soda are stuck here for a few more hours, but Darry's gonna swing by and take you back to the house."

"I can walk…he doesn't have to drive out here."

"It ain't that far, and he don't mind." I hated being treated like a baby, but I had to admit, I was glad they were with me. Still, I couldn't believe this. Rita wanted to contact Ponyboy…she'd promised to think about talking to the cops. Why? Why did she want to talk to him so bad? Did she like him or something? Had they…I don't know…been close? I felt my face heat up as I waited for Darry and did my best to think of anything else. I was being stupid. What Ponyboy did was none of my business. But I knew that if I asked Darry or Sodapop for permission to give out that number, they'd want to talk to Rita, then she might disappear…then she might never tell the cops what had happened, and then Pony might never get to come back.

I was standing by the garage when Darry's truck pulled up to the gas station, trying to give Sodapop more time alone with his brunette friend who I assumed was still inside. Hurrying over, not wanting him to have to wait, I climbed into the truck, putting the book on the seat beside me and thanking him for the ride. He glanced at the book, lifting an eyebrow and humming in acknowledgment of the thanks. "Ain't that a little too old for you." He asked, vaguely disapproving. I could see why it bugged Pony, and it kind of bugged me too. He wasn't even my brother. But I grinned anyway. He was doing me a favor…he could have left me at the DX until Steve and Soda got off.

"Yeah." I admitted, shrugging. He smiled a little, pulling out of the parking lot, but didn't say anything else. "Hey, Darry?"

"Hm?" He kept his eyes on the road, barely glancing at me, and I was glad. I didn't know if I'd have been able to ask if he'd been looking at me.

"If Ponyboy's foster sister won't talk, do you think he can ever come back?" He was quiet, his jaw clenched, and I knew that whatever he said, the real answer was no. Rita was the only one left who could testify against Richard. "I'm sorry," I muttered, turning to stare out the window. That answered that.

He sighed, softening. "You ain't gotta be sorry, kiddo. We're gonna get him back. Even if that girl won't talk, we'll figure it out."

"Okay." He was lying. Keith did it all the time. 'I'll be home before dark.' 'Mom's gonna stop working so much.' 'We'll do something together this weekend.' 'Dad's gonna be back soon.' I realized with a jolt that I was still mad at him and felt my eyes get hot. Staring determinedly out the window, I forced the tears back, not about to start bawling in front of Darrel Curtis…not again. They were all such good liars...I was going to have to get better.

When we got to Darry's house, I dropped the book back on Ponyboy's desk, digging through his others to find a better one. Finally, I settled on a Shirley Jackson book that looked kind of dark and headed out to the living room. Darry was in the kitchen making dinner, and I couldn't help feeling uncomfortable, like a stand in for Ponyboy sometimes. It was like I was in a play, and I was his understudy…suddenly I was on stage and I had to do all his lines, but I didn't know any of them, and everyone was looking at me…

It had been almost a month since those guys had come into my house, but I still had nightmares. The night before, Keith had been home and I'd woken up screaming, just like I'd heard Ponyboy had a few times after his parents had died. Keith had come in with a baseball bat, ready to kill someone, but it was just me, and he'd sat with me until I'd fallen asleep again. That made me feel like a real baby…but I was scared to be in that house alone. I mean, I was too old to be scared of something so dumb, but I was anyway. So I was glad Darry was here…that they hadn't let me walk home on my own.

Rita was their last chance. It all hinged on her. Without her, Pony and Johnny would never get to come home. Those people would keep coming after Darrel and Sodapop…the rest of us too. But if I gave her this phone number…if she got to talk to Ponyboy and got to tell him whatever it was she wanted to tell him…once she knew whatever it was she wanted to know…she could save him. She could tell the cops everything. I glanced at the hole in the wall. Darry had made it. He'd punched a hole in their wall because of this. Keith had about drank himself to death because of it. Johnny had left his home. And me…two men had come into my home at night.

I put the untouched book down, wandering into the kitchen and glancing at the refrigerator where the number was held up with a piece of tape. It wouldn't be hard to copy down. "What's up, kiddo?" Darry asked.

"Need any help?" I asked, tearing my eyes away.

"Nah, that's alright." He glanced up at me from where he stood in front of the stove.

"Is Keith going to be around tomorrow?" I asked. He'd give me a ride to the library. Probably.

"I think he's gonna meet Tim somewhere kind of early." He glanced at me, stirring the pot of whatever he was making for dinner. Probably spaghetti. These guys ate more chicken and spaghetti than anyone I'd ever met. He gave me a half smile. "I'm off tomorrow, though. You need a lift somewhere?" Feeling bile rise in my throat, I nodded.

"Yeah…I just wanted to stop by the library." I admitted, my stomach turning over. Surely he'd see through me. "I can walk…"

He shook his head. "Nah, I can drive you. We can go after lunch if you want. I've got to meet with that cop in the morning, but it shouldn't take too long." I nodded, jaw tight and praying he wouldn't see through me. Keith was a great liar. So was Ponyboy. Dallas. Steve. But not me. I couldn't lie for shit.

"Sounds great." I told him, forcing the smile, then hurried to the living room, dropping onto the couch and praying that I was doing the right thing.

 _ **Thanks for reading :)**_


	36. Coming to Terms

**_Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! I appreciate all of you so much! :) I hope you like the new chater. The story will be winding down pretty soon, so I hope you guys have enjoyed!_**

Coming to Terms

I stared at the ceiling from the floor where I'd been sleeping for the last few hours. James had had a card game going when we'd gotten back from work the night before…it had gone until three a.m. when Pony had just about fallen asleep on the coffee table. Yawning, James had kicked his friends out, heading into his own bedroom, and Pony had dragged himself to the sofa where he'd slept for about two hours before waking up crying again, his face in the pillow muffling the screams.

Barely awake myself, I'd felt a brief urge to just ignore him…just let him sleep it off. But he was crying, just like he had been every night since he'd beat the crap out of those guys. How many times had he had to suffer through this alone? How many times had the other guys in the house just let him sleep it off? How many times had he woken up crying, alone and scared? So, climbing to my feet and feeling a little ashamed, I went over to him. His lip was bleeding again…a consequence of the last fight three days ago, and his eye was still bruised and painful looking, even though the swelling was pretty much gone. Sitting on the sofa, I put a hand on his shoulder.

Pete's buddies had gotten us twice since that first time in the store, each time when we'd been walking home from work. The second time was about three days after Pete and his buddies had come into the store. Thursday night. Pony and me had been walking home from work, him real quiet as I'd come to get used to. I mean, he was always kind of quiet, but this was new…well, not new. It was just like right after he'd lost his parents. He seemed lost in thought most of the time, barely talking to me even when I asked him stuff. It was like living with a ghost, and I hated it.

We'd sort of been keeping an eye out, but honestly, we hadn't seen those guys around since Monday, and no one had ever bugged us when we'd been on our way home, so we hadn't been paying much attention. Two hoods had jumped out from an alley about three blocks from the apartment and grabbed us, throwing me against the wall and shoving Ponyboy further into the alley. We'd managed to get away, but not before they'd busted his lip and about knocked me out. Ponyboy had dragged me back to the apartment and James had left for the night again, not coming back until the middle of the next day with a black eye and a bandage on his knuckles. Pony had sat with me all night, a cold rag on my head, keeping me awake and looking scared. I'd done my best to reassure him I was fine, talking to him about the book I'd been reading until he'd fallen asleep sitting up beside me.

I'd stayed home from work the next day, which Ponyboy had insisted on, and he'd told our boss what had happened. He told me that Mr. Williams just asked if I was okay or needed a hospital or anything, but Pony had assured him that I was alright, just needed to rest for a day. We'd stayed home Sunday, hiding in the apartment and reading all day, neither of us suggesting we go out. When I'd gone back to work on Monday, he'd pulled us both into the back with a real serious look on his face. "You boys sure find yourselves in trouble a lot, don't you?" He'd asked, then patted me on the arm. "Are you alright?" He'd asked me, squeezing my shoulder a little.

"Yeah…we got away from 'em before they could do too much damage." He'd eyed Pony's busted lip and the bruise on my head.

"I hate to think of what you boys think is 'too much damage.'" He'd sighed, crossing his arms, looking as serious as the day we'd gone back to work after Pony had beaten up those guys. "No one told the police that you two work here, so you ought to be fine. If they come around, I'll tell them I hired you today…that I wanted some extra people around the store after what happened. No one's gonna say anything else about it." And that's been all he'd said. Nothing about Ponyboy about killing someone. Nothing about me barely stopping him in time. Sue hadn't spoken to us in two days, and then, she'd been pretty quiet. Heck, she was still skittish, barely meeting our eyes. We were just a couple more hoods to her now, I guess.

The next fight had happened on Wednesday night and this time it had been four guys. Once more, we'd been on our way home from work. I couldn't remember it much, but I'd woken up to James shaking me and slapping my face. "Wake up…kid wake up now!" He'd barked, and I'd looked around the alley blearily, hands shaking as I'd tried to remember what had happened.

"Pony? Where's…"

"We've got him. We gotta get you two back home. Hell, it would be better to get you to the hospital…" He'd trailed off, pulling me to my feet, and I'd glanced over to find Pony propped up between his other two friends, Ed and Terry, his head against his chest as he'd tried to walk.

"Pony…" I'd tried to reach out to him, but James had shaken me a little.

"He's fine. We can't stay out here, though, okay? Come on. Work with me." And slowly, we'd all made our way back to the apartment a few blocks away. They'd gotten us in almost the same place as the week before and I cursed myself for not keeping a better lookout.

I'd fallen asleep again as soon as they'd dropped me on the floor where I usually slept, and hadn't woken up until the next afternoon. I'd immediately sat up, looking around and found Ponyboy sitting up on the sofa. He'd had two black eyes and his lip was bleeding a little. His face had looked like one big bruise, and I'd figured I didn't look much better. James had come in from the kitchen then, handing me a glass of water and two pills that I'd swallowed without question. Beside him on a table, Pony had had a similar empty glass. "Do yous two ever look where you're going?" James had snapped, glaring between us. "I mean, shit! I know actual mafia guys that get into less trouble!"

"You know real mafia guys?" Pony had asked, a slight smirk on his face, and I'd bit back the laugh. It was good to see him cracking jokes again. James had wheeled on him though, and Pony had tensed, jerking back against the sofa, all humor forgotten, his face real pale under the bruises.

"Look, you little shit…"

"Cut it out!" I'd snapped, jumping up despite the spinning in my head and taking a threatening step forward that I was sure wasn't too threatening. He'd just stared down at my friend who no longer met his eyes and had sighed, running a hand down his face. Pony had been real quiet, his hands shaking in his lap. I wondered how many times Richard had said that exact thing to him…had towered over him, fists clenched, ready to hit him.

"We're gonna have to rumble again." James had said, glancing between us his tone softer. Pony hadn't looked up again, though. "I'm gonna go talk to Terry, then I gotta work. Yous two think you can survive until tomorrow?" We'd just nodded, and Pony hadn't really spoken to James for a couple of days, although it hadn't been for a lack of trying on his part.

Mr. Williams hadn't said anything about our new injuries that night, but he had been keeping an eye on us since. Last night had been the first time Pony had been brave enough to talk to James again. Now it was Saturday morning, a little over a month since I'd joined Ponyboy in New York. Close to two since he'd come here himself…since Richard had killed his foster sister. Closer and closer to a year since he'd seen his brothers. August and the start of the new school year was coming up and neither of us would be able to go here.

I reached out and shook my friend, hating how he hid his face in a pillow so he wouldn't scream…even in his sleep. That meant he was so scared, even in his sleep, of making noise that he was trying to keep quiet. What had Richard done to him? How could my friend get better if stuff like this kept happening?

"Wake up, Pony." I murmured, rubbing his back, and he jerked awake, staring at me blearily, his eyes still wet. "You're alright. We're at James's apartment." It helped him when I told him where we were, I guess, because he usually came out of it pretty quick when I did. Now he just sighed, closing his eyes and dropping back against a pillow.

"I'm real sick of this, Johnny." He murmured in a watery voice, and I patted him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I know man." I knew he was tired and scared to death all the time and stressed out. "Get some more sleep, alright? Want some aspirin?" He nodded and I grabbed us both three pills. We shared a glass of water, downing the pills, then he curled up on the couch under the blanket and went back to sleep.

I didn't have as much luck, and I was glad we didn't have to go to work for the next two days. I was still awful sore, and I was sure he was too. I left Pony to sleep, slipping out of the apartment with a dime in my pocket and heading across the road to the payphone, keeping a sharp eye out. James had told us that him and Terry had tracked down a couple of guys that ran around with Pete and had beaten the hell out of them…payback I guess, and he was still talking about a rumble. The last thing I wanted was to get in the middle of a New York City gang war, but I appreciated them sticking up for us.

Buck answered the phone at the bar, sounding tired and irritable and I didn't much care. It was probably around seven in the morning there, and I'd thought about calling Darry and Soda, but they'd want to talk to Pony who, as far as I knew, had only called his brothers twice in two weeks. "Let me talk to Dallas." I told Buck, and after only a second of grumbling, he sat the phone down, probably going to find my friend, and then Dally was on the phone.

"Yeah?" He asked, sounding tired.

"Hey, Dal." I greeted, grinning so big I was sure he knew.

"It's about time, kid. What the hell is going on? The kid's brothers are freaking out…I'm waiting for them to tie me up and make me call you guys."

"He hasn't called?" Of course, I'd pretty much known. For the last couple of days since we'd gotten jumped the second time out in the alley, Pony had gotten more withdrawn than before. I didn't know if it was 'cause he was scared of the hoods or because he was scared of James. Either way, I knew he hadn't told his brothers or the guys anything about our trouble with these New York hoods and wondered why. I guess he just didn't want to worry them even more.

"Not since Tuesday. They're scared he's sick again or something. Soda said something wasn't right last time they talked…he's worrying himself to death."

"He ain't sick…he's fine." I glanced back at the apartment across the street, squeezing the phone. He was barely sleeping and didn't eat much of anything at all…which couldn't be good. He was so skinny those stupid long-sleeved shirts were falling off him. His jeans too. I wanted to tell his brothers that, but I knew they couldn't help from back home. "We had some trouble with a couple of guys…they came into the store and they were causing trouble. And since…well, it's happened two more times on our way home." I admitted. He needed to know.

"They hurt you two?" He demanded.

"Not bad," I lied. "At the store, they had a hold of me but…Pony about killed 'em."

"Shit…really?"

"Yeah. He was pretty shook up after. I was scared he wasn't gonna stop hitting them."

"Doesn't sound like the kid." Dally told me finally, talking real slow.

"I think he's messed up, Dal. I mean…he seems okay sometimes but that night he got ahold of one of those guys and just kept hitting him. He would have killed him if I hadn't grabbed him. Then he was just out of it. I took him home and he had some kind of awful nightmare…woke up crying and couldn't stop shaking. I don't know what all that guy did to him but it must have been real bad."

"Yeah, no shit." He grumbled on the other line. "Where is he now?"

"Back at the apartment. Asleep. He's been having nightmares every night…it's getting so bad he barely sleeps. Won't eat much. He's lost weight and…I don't know what to do, Dally." I'd come to help him…to make sure he knew someone was with him, but it didn't seem to be doing nothing.

"There's nothing you can do, Johnny." He assured me quietly. "You're with him. That's about all there is to do. He needs his brothers I guess."

"Any luck talking to those foster kids?"

"Mark and Tyler split. No trace of 'em. They ain't gonna come back to talk."

"And the girl?" He sighed, sounding defeated.

"She's gone too. Left a little over a week ago. No more kids in that house…not yet. The cop can't find nothing…Darry and Sodapop are going nuts trying to figure this out. I suggested bringing the kid back to testify and Darrel just about lost it. Told me I'd put the kid in danger again over his dead body…I think he meant it."

"But no ones been bugging you guys?"

"Not really. Someone left a note in their mailbox. 'Tell the cop to leave us alone or we'll kill you' or some shit like that. Darry showed it to that cop, but they ain't worried. Two-Bit and Susan are staying with Darry and Soda most nights. I don't know what they're gonna do, man. That cop can't find proof of anything and the kids from that house are gone. Until they get new foster kids and start hurting them…I don't know." I hadn't heard Dally sound this helpless in a long time.

"What if me and Pony just come back? Don't tell Darry. Talk to the cops?"

"It ain't safe."

"So what? It ain't safe for Ponyboy to stay up here like this. We go to work and he reads books and stuff but he ain't all there. Something's wrong with him. And now we got those hoods after us…"

For a long time, Dallas was quiet. Then, "How much you two got saved?"

"Almost enough for two bus tickets. We save almost everything we make. He barely eats anything so that helps." He snorted but didn't sound amused.

"Give it another week and I'll talk to Darrel about it again, okay. Maybe that cop too. If we're gonna bring you two back, we gotta at least talk to the cop. Darry's gonna kill me if I bring you two back and it ain't safe. But the kid needs to come home…you too."

"Yeah…alright."

"Can you get him to call his brothers? One of 'em at least?"

"I'll do my best." I promised.

"Do me one better…just call them yourself and hand him the phone. I don't care why he's avoiding them…they can't take this right now. They're gonna lose it if he shuts them out again, and I don't feel like dealing with it right now, man."

"Alright. I will." I told him.

"Get him to do something…go to the movies or something. Hell, go shoplift something. Just…try to get him out of whatever the hell's happening."

"We're going to church on Sunday. The Pastor's real nice."

"That help?" He asked, dubious. Everyone knew he used to go to church sometimes. Once Steve had started to tease him about it after his parents had died, but Darry had pulled him aside…more like grabbed him and threw him into the wall in front of everyone but Pony, and told him that if going to church helped his little brother, then he could damn well go to church. No one had dared tease him after that.

"A little. Our boss's daughter likes him. She's there."

"Yeah? The kid's got a girl?" He sounded like he was grinning and I did too.

"Nah…he don't even notice I don't think."

He sighed. "Try to get him to." I felt bad for bugging him about all this when he had so much more to worry about, but I didn't know where else to turn. "Take care of yourself, alright? Call sometime next week and we'll see where we can go from there."

"Sure thing. Thanks, Dal…for everything."

"Yeah, whatever, kid. This is the last favor I do for you two." Right as I was about to hang up, he caught me. "Hey, your old lady came by the Curtis's house today…was asking if they'd seen you. Darry told her you were around."

"She waited this long to ask about me, so screw her." I snapped, hating how hot my eyes were, and I heard him snort on the other end.

"You got that right, kid." He told me, not unkindly.

Ponyboy was asleep when I got back to the apartment, and I was as quiet as I could be, slipping into the nest of blankets on the floor and figuring I could get more sleep.

When I finally got up, I smelled eggs. Stretching, I climbed to my feet and found Ponyboy in the kitchen, a plate already made. He nodded to me, gesturing for me to take it. "Thanks." He nodded, making his own plate, which had only about half as much food as mine. "I ain't all that hungry, man. You sure you don't want more?" I asked, but he just shook his head. I ate most of what he'd given me, and he picked at his food. "Man, if you don't eat more than that, you're gonna get sick." I warned. He just shrugged. "You're freaking me out, Pony." I admitted, and that got his attention.

"I'm just…tired." I he assured me, smiling weakly. "Still sore from Thursday." We hadn't talked about the guys who'd jumped us…I didn't want to, and I guess he didn't either. But I felt like we ought to.

"Think James and his guys can take care of it?" I asked, putting my plate on the table in front of us. He glanced at me, then back at his eggs, shrugging. "I sure ain't itching to get jumped again for a while." I tried to joke. Pony swallowed hard.

"Maybe you ought to head home, Johnny." He almost whispered, and I jerked my head around to look at him.

"What?"  
"You didn't sign up for this, you know? It ain't fair, you getting beat up just for sticking around with me. We got enough for one bus ticket, and I can keep my job with Mr. Williams and keep saving. I'll be fine."

"You want me to leave?" I asked, incredulous, and felt my heart twist uncomfortably when a tear ran down the side of his face.

"You ought to. Before you get hurt more."

I reached out, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him hard, turning him so he had to look at me. He didn't meet my eyes and I saw how exhausted he was…how scared and small and broken he looked. Keeping a hold of his shoulder, I reached out with my other hand and cupped his neck like Darry did. "Hey, I ain't gonna leave you." I told him, real quiet. "You hear? I ain't gonna leave, not unless you come with me, and it ain't safe for that to happen yet, so we'll keep working and saving money, and everything's gonna be fine." He put a fist up to his mouth then, biting down and sobbing against his will, the sound forced out of him. "I won't leave you here by yourself. You ain't gotta be alone anymore, okay? It don't matter what they do, I won't leave you. You're my brother and I'm staying with you."

He was shaking real hard and I put my arms around him, remembering a day almost two years ago when he'd found me in the lot, my head in my knees, a black eye forming from a punch my old man had given me. It was the first time they'd actually kicked me out. He'd sat down beside me, putting his arms around me, holding on when I went to shake him off, ignoring me when I told him to beat it…to leave me the hell alone.

"I ain't gonna leave you, Johnny." He'd told me, a sad smile in his voice. "I won't leave you here by yourself. You're my best friend, and I'm staying with you."

"I talked to Dally on the phone." I told Ponyboy after he'd cried for a few minutes, knowing he wouldn't want to talk about that. He wiped his eyes and I pretended not to notice. He was usually more emotional like the rest of us, but not this bad. Then again, Sodapop had been real emotional in the last year too.

"Everything okay back home?"

"Yeah, except your brothers are worried sick. How come you haven't called them?" He shrugged, uncomfortable. "Why don't you call them tonight? They're scared something's happened."

"Something has."

"Yeah, and they're gonna want to know."

"They can't do anything about it."

"No, but they'll still want to know." He just kind of shrugged, and I let it go for the moment. "Wanna go to the library? I'm out of books." He nodded, looking grateful for the reprieve, and after we got dressed, we grabbed our stacks of books and headed to the library. We hadn't been since last Saturday and had managed to read all the books we'd brought home with James's library card the week before. He'd checked out three old books, classics I guess, and I'd grabbed three mysteries, reading all of them and one of his. It was boring, actually, but he seemed to like them.

It was so hot out I started sweating the minute we stepped outside. He had to be hot, or maybe he was getting used to the long sleeves and jeans. I shifted my books, wiping my forehead and feeling sweat start to drip down my back. I looked at him as we walked, and he was getting sweaty too…guess he was hot. "No one's gonna care if you roll your sleeves up, Pone." I told him quietly as we walked, knowing he wouldn't like it but trying anyway. "It's awful hot up here."

"I'm fine." He assured me. I let it go, and sighed in relief when we stepped into the cool, shady library. The same old lady was still at the counter and she smiled to see us.

"Good afternoon, boys." She greeted, kindly as ever. I nodded, putting the books on the counter, and Pony grinned a little, muttering a hello and then the two of us headed over to the stacks, trying to find books we hadn't read yet.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I'm kind of sick of reading all day." I snorted, nudging him with my elbow.

"Your brother's gona be glad to hear that." I teased. "Always said you kept your nose in a book too much." He grinned, nodding and trailing a finger over the spines of the books, looking for something new to read.

Eventually we picked out two books and settled into our usual chairs, him curling up sideways, me cross-legged, and managed to read for a while. I could tell his heart wasn't in it…he was determined though, and I figured it would kill the time so what could it hurt. We'd been there for about half an hour when a familiar voice interrupted us.

"Mike? Patrick?" Pony and I glanced up, him grinning a little, and I put my book down in my lap.

"Hey Sue." I greeted quietly, keeping an eye out for a librarian who might shush us. She had her arms crossed, leaning against a bookshelf.

"What are you guys doing here?" Pony held up a book and I chuckled. She did too. "Is this what you guys do on your days off? Sit around and read?"

"Sometimes we go to the movies." I shrugged. Her eyes kept darting back to Pony but I couldn't tell if it was because she liked him or if it was because she was scared of him. We both looked pretty rough, which was a good thing if anyone wanted to mess with us, but it might scare her. Either way, her eyes kept going back to his face, which was turned down toward his book. He glanced at her sometimes, though, smiling a little, and I fought not to roll my eyes. Was this what he was gonna be like when he liked a girl? Then again, I wasn't much better, I had to admit.

"You guys ever go swimming?" She asked, the question taking us both by surprise.

I glanced over at Pony who looked interested. We liked swimming when we could afford to go…usually it just cost a nickel and we'd go with Two-Bit or Soda and Steve and we'd horse around until the lifeguard blew his whistle at us. Once, Dally had gotten us kicked out, but they'd let us back in the next day. The socs usually had their own pools, so they wouldn't come to the public pool and bug us. That made it safe for me and Pony to go by ourselves so that was cool. "Yeah…sometimes." I told her.

"Wanna come? I was going to go with Tessa but she bailed on me." She was grinning at us easily, but I wondered if that was true. Still, I glanced over at Pony, remembering what Dal had said. Distract him. Pull him out of whatever kind of rut he was in…get him to notice that Sue seemed to like him.  
"We don't have swim suits." I told her.

"You can swim in shorts. Got any of those?" I nodded, and Ponyboy did too. He tugged one of his sleeves down a little further though. "Your shirt too, if you want." She told him, her eyes dropping to the floor. "Nobody's gonna care." He stared down at his lap, his ears getting red.

I nudged him a little. "You wanna go?" I asked, and went on when he didn't answer. "Beats sitting around here. Besides, you said you were sick of reading, right?" He glanced up, grinning a little, and I grinned right back, glad to see a little of my friend back.

"Yeah, alright…sounds like fun."

 _ **Thank you for reading! I hope you enoyed the new chapter :)**_


	37. A Phonecall

**_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed :)_**

 _A Phonecall_

We headed back to the apartment, both of us keeping an eye out. After everything that had been happening, I was jumpier than ever, and Johnny was kind of skittish too, even though he'd been dealing with it better than I had. I couldn't get it out of my head…the thoughts ran in a loop. Richard, cigarette burns, Rita, Lianne, the guys in the store, getting jumped. It was like I was stuck, and I hated it. I hated being this way. I knew Johnny was worried and I'd spent most of the last week terrified he was going to up and go home, leaving me alone again. I wouldn't blame him. He had every right to want to go home.

It was just like right after our parents had died…I'd lay awake so many nights, scared out of my mind that Darry was going to come to his senses and send me off so that he could go to school. I knew it was selfish, but I'd almost been relieved when he'd gotten a job roofing houses full time. That meant he planned on putting off school for at least a little while. Then I'd felt awful for feeling relieved. Darry didn't deserve to work like an old man, and Johnny didn't deserve to be stuck here with me, always in danger of getting jumped and spending all his free time working.

But Johnny had told me he wasn't going anywhere. I'd finally gotten up the courage to urge him to go on home…to get to safety, and he'd just held me, assuring me he wasn't going anywhere without me. I didn't have any right to be as happy as I was…to be this relieved. But I was. And when we'd gone to the library together, I'd barely been able to focus on my book I was so glad he wasn't leaving me.

Then Sue had showed up, and I wondered if she'd followed us or something. It didn't seem likely that she'd just run into us…I'd never seen her at the library before. But there she was, inviting us to go swimming. I wanted to…it sounded like fun, and she'd said it would be okay to swim in my shirt and shorts. Back home, Johnny and I had gone during the summer plenty of times, either to the public pool or to the lake with my parents and Darry and Soda. We'd all learned how to swim at the lake, and it was so hot out…it would feel great. As long as I didn't have to take my shirt off, I was in, even though I probably shouldn't get that cut on my side wet. I'd said yes, regardless, and Johnny and I headed home to change into shorts, then hurried to the store where she was waiting. Together, we all walked the couple of miles to the public pool where all sorts of people were splashing around, little kids in the shallow end and a couple of guys our age horsing around in the deep end.

Johnny pulled off his shirt and we both sat down on the ledge in the middle. Sue pulled off her cover, revealing a swimsuit that left her shoulders bare…it had a skirt that covered just a few inches of her thighs and I tried not to keep looking, my ears hot again. She leftcover-uper up on the chair with Johnny's shirt and sat down beside us, sliding into the water. I tried not to stare at her shoulders and found Johnny grinning down at his lap. Planting a hand against his back, I shoved, laughing when he went sprawling into the water, squeaking before he went under.

Sue put a hand over her mouth and giggled when he came up to the surface, incredulous as he stared up at me. "What the hell, man!" He asked, but he couldn't help grinning any more than I could help laughing and he grabbed my leg, yanking hard until I was pulled in beside them, forgetting all about my arms as I was pulled under. I shoved him off, kicking my legs and treading water. "Jerk." He grumbled, but he was smiling when he splashed me. Sue squealed, ducking like she wasn't already in a pool.

"Where's your cousin?" I asked Sue, turning to her in the pool. She rolled her eyes.

"He doesn't come with me everywhere, you know." She met my eyes, then Johnny's. "I mean…with what happened to you guys, he's been around more…mostly at night." Johnny grunted and I nodded. "I know…you guys got jumped walking home, right?" I shrugged, staring down at the water.

"Yeah, but we're fine." Johnny told her firmly.

"You guys fight a lot back home?" She wandered.

"Sometimes." Johnny shrugged, making it obvious he didn't want to talk about it.

"We rumble, but not with knives or anything." I told her, not wanting her to think we were hoods or something, even though we kind of were. "And we don't jump people."

"Doesn't seem to stop them from jumping us." Johnny grinned, elbowing me, and I had to smile, shrugging. He wasn't wrong.

"Those guys that came in the store were causing trouble at our church a while ago…the ones I told you about." I nodded. "They're dangerous. They were fighting with a gang of guys up here and I thought they were gone…"

"Don't worry about it." Johnny tried to reassure her. "Our cousin's taking care of it." I was glad he remembered who James was supposed to be to us. With all the lies we were telling, I was staring to get mixed up.

A few feet away some guys were swimming, splashing and laughing, one of them jumping on the other's back. I wondered if they were related or just friends…the sight of it made me miss the rest of the gang. Johnny must have noticed because the next thing I knew, he was shoving me under water, climbing on my back, and I squirmed under him, throwing him off. Sue was laughing when I splashed him again. I used both hands and splashed her as hard as I could. She squealed again, laughing out loud, and splashed me back.

Something loud splashed behind me then, and we all moved forward, Sue grinning. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear." She called, and Johnny and I turned to find Marcus and two of his equally large friends. A third friend was standing outside the chainlink fence and waved, heading down the street away from us. Marcus waved, then turned to us.

"Hey kids." He nodded to Johnny and me. "Heard you two got jumped again."

"We're fine." I told him, trying to sound firm.

"Yeah, you look it too." Marcus snorted. "Your buddy James came by the store a few days ago. He said you two were in some trouble. Seems like you get into trouble a lot." I couldn't argue. He was right. It seemed to follow us around. "But I appreciate what you two did. If you guys hadn't taken care of those guys…well…Sue and my uncle are some of the only family I got left, and the cops weren't gonna take care of it. So thanks." He held out a hand to me, and after hesitating a second, I took it.

"James is your cousin, huh?" The guy on his left asked. He was looking at us dubiously, but I just nodded.

"Mike, Patrick, this is Jesse." He indicated the one who'd spoken, the one I'd seen around with him at the store before. "And this is Thomas." The two guys nodded to us.

"You're the two that came to church last week, right? My old man was pissed." Thomas chuckled. "He's telling everyone next week you're gonna bring firecrackers."

Johnny grinned. " Damn. How'd he figure it out?"

"I don't even know where to get firecrackers around here." I told them. They all chuckled.

"Yeah, I told him you two were just weird kids that worked for my uncle." Marcus put in, and Sue punched his shoulder.

"They ain't weird. Be nice." He rolled his eyes, grabbing her around the waist and throwing her up and into the water again. She laughed, splashing him, and his buddies chuckled.

While Marcus went to grab her again, Thomas turned back to us, talking quietly. "Your cousin told us what happened. With Peter and his guys. Next Friday, after you guys get off work, a couple of our pals are gonna meet up with your cousin, and we're all gonna rumble with Pete."

"You guys…you ain't gotta do that." Johnny muttered, shaking his head. "You ain't gotta get involved."

"You two are working for Mr. Williams, and you saved Sue. That means you're one of us now." Thomas reached out, ruffling Johnny's hair, splashing him in the process, and Johnny halfheartedly splashed him back, laughing a little. "Never thought I'd be saying that to a couple of scrawny white boys but…" We both laughed then, and Sue and Marcus swam back over, her kicking at him and hiding behind us like we were gonna be able to protect her.

I had to admit, I was a little relieved. I mean, I felt bad, accepting help from some strangers, but if they were willing to help us, then, at the moment, I would take it. I was stubborn, but I wasn't that stubborn. Darry was always telling me to use my head, and I was finally gonna listen. 'Cause if we got jumped gain, they might hurt us real bad. And Johnny didn't deserve that. Last time had been pretty bad, but it was getting worse. Johnny and I were scared to walk home alone at night after work. We never left the apartment at night anymore, and we didn't go anyplace after work. I figured James and his friends were having some trouble too, but he never complained or anything. No way they were just targeting the two of us.

Johnny lifted an eyebrow at me as the two guys started wrestling in the water, keeping it contained so the lifeguard wouldn't get upset. "Think we ought to go to that rumble?"

"Probably." I admitted. "I mean…it's kind of my fault."

"Think James'll let us?" He asked.

"Let us? Man, we just show up." I told him with a smirk.

It wasn't long before we were pulled into Jesse and Thomas's underwater wrestling match, with Marcus and Sue joining in. At first I was kind of stiff with the two of them, but they reminded me of Two-Bit, so soon we were wrestling and playing until the sun was starting to set and they closed the pool for the evening.

We dried off in the little locker room, me changing in a bathroom stall into a new pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt that Dally had given me. It was still hot out even though it was getting dark, so it felt nice, walking outside and warming up. Marcus and Sue parted ways with us when we got close to her dad's shop, and Jesse left as soon as we left the pool, calling out a good night.

Thomas stuck with us, though, and neither of us questioned him walking us home, him talking about nothing in particular as we all walked. I did find out that he had a big brother off at college, and that his dad kept a baseball bat under his pew at the church just in case Pete and his guys came back. Quite a few of his dad's friends did too. He told me that when I'd first come in, a few of them had been worried, but I was such a scrawny little kid none of them had been worried. He'd been laughing when he'd said it, though, so I didn't take offense, just laughed along with Johnny.

James lifted an eyebrow when we entered the apartment, both of our hair still wet. I'd talked to him a little the night before, but since he'd yelled at me…glory I was pathetic. Someone yelled at me and immediately I was scared of them forever. He'd snapped at me. So what? So had Two-Bit and Dallas and even Steve at different points, and I sure wasn't scared of any of them. Well, sometimes I was scared of Dally, but not too bad. Hell, Sodapop had yelled at me once or twice, but that didn't mean I was ever scared of my brother! Darry neither, and heaven knew he'd done his share of snapping at me. I wasn't always like that. It's what I kept telling myself, furious that I acted like a baby nowadays. It was Richard's fault. Glory, I hated him. He'd ruined my life. He'd ruined everything.

"You're wet." He told us, his voice dry.

"We went swimming." I told him, determined not to be afraid. Or, rather, not to show him I was afraid. I'd had fun. Glory, I couldn't remember the last time I'd really had fun without being scared. But today, with Sue and Johnny, it had just been great. I'd missed that so much. More than I'd realized. I felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off my chest. Johnny wasn't gonna leave me here. We were gonna be okay. James was going to take care of these guys after us and things back home were gonna be fine. They had to be. It would all work out.

"I'm gonna take a shower." Johnny spoke up, heading over to the bathroom and I stood awkwardly in the living room with James sitting in his chair.

"You can sit down, kid." He told me quietly. On the table in front of him, he had a game of solitaire laid out. He was losing.

"I'll get your couch wet." I waved the offer off, sitting on the floor in front of it instead. We'd checked out a couple of books before leaving the library in a hurry, just the ones Johnny and I had grabbed and one more each. I figured we'd have to go back before the end of the week since we'd read them so fast. Or maybe we could do something else with Sue…the thought made me want to smile at the floor but I did my best not to. She was real pretty and nice to us and everything, but I knew nothing could come of it, even if I was ever brave enough to ask her out or something.

"They let you swim in a long sleeved t-shirt?"

"Yep." I told him, wrapping a towel I'd taken from his bathroom around my shoulders so I wouldn't get the bottom of the sofa wet.

"You gonna hide your arms forever?" He asked. I ignored him for a minute, staring down at the carpet at the shower in the other room turned on.

"Maybe."

He snorted. "Your brothers are gonna wanna see, and they don't sound like the kind of guys to take no for an answer."

I wanted to insist. I wanted to tell him that I'd never show anyone and I'd never even look at my arms myself again. But it was stupid and I knew it. I knew I was being stupid and ridiculous and irrational. "You're right…they're not." I told him, trying to grin. I knew it came off as weak and scared, just like I was these days. The gang would be ashamed of me, that was for sure. No way I'd be any good in a rumble right now. I was just some scared kid. Unless I swung the other way, then I was practically a killer. I wanted to talk to Darry and Soda about this so bad, but I knew it would just worry them so much. Besides, there was nothing I could do. I was being selfish. "I'll have to show them at some point."

"Don't worry about it, kid. Wear the long sleeves as long as you want. But don't let nobody bug you about those marks on your arms or nothing. None of that was your fault." He assured me. "You ain't gotta be embarrassed about it. Hell, I got a couple of scars myself." He pointed at his neck, hidden under his hair. "My old man got pissed at me once…threw a plate. A piece of it got me here. Broke my nose once too. I mean, it ain't too crooked, but still." He shrugged. "It ain't nothing to be ashamed of is all I'm saying." He went back to his card game, putting one of his two's down on one of the stack. Leaning in, I got a better look.

"Might as well start over, man." I told him, grinning a little. "You're gonna lose."

"Hell, kid, I'll win one way or another." I snorted. He sounded like my brother. He'd flip the whole deck over until he got all the cards straightened out. I would see Sodapop again soon, I told myself as Johnny emerged from the shower, and I went into the bathroom, taking a shower and changing into new clothes.

We both dropped into our respective beds after I was done with my shower, James heading out to work and leaving us alone for the night. I wasn't really worried. Neither was Johnny. No one had bugged us here, at least not yet, and I think they'd have to be pretty ballsy to try and bust into James's apartment. We hadn't gotten any more information about the rumble yet, nor had we been invited to fight in it. I wasn't upset about it. I didn't want to fight in a New York rumble with a bunch of hoods. Honestly, I wanted to call Darry and Soda. I hadn't since the night before we'd been jumped, and I felt bad. I knew they were worried. Johnny had said so. Apparently he'd talked to Dal.

I was afraid they'd know something was wrong. And they would. Darry and Sodapop always knew when something was wrong, even over the phone. And they would worry about me even more than they already were and then they wouldn't be able to focus on their own lives and they might get hurt or one of Richard's guys would get to them. I didn't want them to worry anymore. I just wanted to do whatever it took to get home. I was thinking about just going back, screw what everyone else though, and just talk to the police. Get them to arrest Richard and I'd be safe…safer. I mean, his guys might still be after me, but I was okay with being babysat for a while. Heck, I'd hang out with Steve all day if it meant I got to go home. Actually, I kind of missed Steve.

Johnny was asleep when the phone rang, and on the floor he groaned and rolled over. He was pretty tired from swimming…I figured we might sleep in the net day instead of going back to church. I liked going though…thought maybe I might try and go back when we got home. James had gone to work a few hours earlier, and Johnny and I had both laid down, trying to get some sleep. It had been a long day, and I was pretty tired, but I thought the phone might be one of my brothers. Picking it up, I glanced at Johnny who had only rolled over, burying his head in the pillow on the floor.

"Hello?" I asked, cautious.

"Hi. Um…is this Ponyboy?" I froze. It was a girl's voice, and immediately my heart was racing. It didn't sound like Susie. I wanted to hang up, but whoever it was had this number somehow.

"Who is this?" I demanded.

"It's Rita." She told me quietly, and I dropped my head back against the sofa, feeling my eyes get hot.

"Rita?"

"Yeah." She whispered. I remembered it then, all the memories flooding back. Sleeping on the floor. Or laying on the floor, unable to get up, blood dripping down my throat as I'd coughed it up and onto the floor. Her screams and the pounding on the door. Pinching my nose, I swallowed hard.

"Hey." I matched her tone. "Yeah, it's me."

"Oh God, Ponyboy…I thought you were dead." I wondered where she was that she had to whisper but didn't ask. She was crying, like she hadn't really believed it, which surprised me, because she'd never seemed to care too much if I lived or died. I mean, sure, I'd helped her out, but she'd never really acknowledged it. Just helped me and patched me up a little when I was too bad off to get up on my own.

"Nah…I got away." I told her, grinning a little in the dark. I couldn't believe it either to be honest.

"How?" She asked, incredulous. I shook my head.

"Doesn't matter." I didn't want to think about that night. None of it. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm out of that place. Was staying with my boyfriend but…turns out he's as much of an asshole as Richard." I flinched.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah I took some money from Richard when I left…I'm staying with a friend now. He hasn't found me yet."

"Where are you?" I wondered. She sighed.

"Tulsa."

"How…how did you get this number?" I asked slowly, confused. I mean, I was glad she was okay, but I didn't understand why she was calling. Or how.

"Susie Matthews. I caught her outside the DX a few days ago. Your friends are all keeping a close eye on her. But your big brother took her to the library the day after and she gave me the number."

"Why?" I knew Susie wouldn't just give out the number to where I was staying. "What's going on?"

"They're after you. Your friends too."

"Yeah, I already know that." I glanced at Johnny, but he hadn't even stirred.

"I told Susie that I'd think about going to the cops if she gave me this number."

"But…why? Why did you want to talk to me?" I left the other part, that she never _had_ wanted to talk to me, unsaid.

"They're going to hurt your friends at some point. Probably your brothers too."

"They can take care of themselves." I insisted, not wanting to accept that possibility…that they really couldn't. That even with Tim and everyone looking out for them, something could happen. "Why did you want to talk to me Rita?"

"I just…I need to know why." She told me, confusing me even more.

"Why what?" I asked. It was getting late and I was exhausted, my eyes closing. I knew I should call my brothers but I just wanted to sleep.

"Why did you do it? You put yourself on the top of his list, you know? He would have left you alone. You could have just hid like Mark and Tyler until your hearing. It passed, you know? Your brothers could have gotten you back and you could have gone home…it was your fault that he was so hard on you." Her voice was hard, but I knew she wasn't mad or even being mean. She just didn't understand. Still, my eyes got wet at the thought. I could have gone home. She was right. If I hadn't interfered, he might have left me alone. I'd put myself in his way. Over and over. "Why did you do it?"

I swallowed hard, wiping my eyes and telling the truth. "Because it's what my big brothers would have done."

 _ **Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)**_


	38. Making Plans

**_Hello everyone! I'm sorry this chapter is late. I'm doign NaNoWriMo again this year, and I've been trying to work on this story as well as my own story. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. I hope to have another one up either tonight or tomorrow night :) Once again, thank you to all my reviewers._**

 _Making Plans_

When I woke up, Ponyboy was sitting on the sofa, flipping half-heartedly through a library book. I rubbed my eyes, getting a better look at him and frowning when I realized he looked exhausted. My heart sank. I'd thought the day before would have done him good. We'd had a good time swimming with Sue and her cousin…and her cousin's friends. We had a friend watching our backs now besides James. We had another day off work…we could go to church but I'd figure we could sleep in and rest. But Pony had dark circles under his eyes when he looked up at me, blinking tiredly. I sat up, leaning forward, and he grinned a little. "Hey, man." He murmured, wiping at his eyes.

"Hey, Pony. Couldn't you sleep?" He laughed a little, but I didn't see why.

"Uh…not really." He ran a hand through his hair and I hoped he wasn't getting sick again. I was about to suggest he lay back down when he opened his mouth again. "I, um…Rita called last night." I froze, eyes wide as I stared at him. He was grinning a little, but he looked shaken. I stood up, climbing onto the sofa beside him and leaning back so I could see him.

"Rita? Like…Rita, your foster sister?" He nodded. "Is…is she okay? Or…how did she even get this number?" I asked, a pit forming in my stomach. If she had this number, did anyone else? Did Richard have this number too? And if Richard had the number, could he find us? Would he come after us, or send someone else after us? Pony was still pale, but he seemed okay. Had he not thought of any of this yet? Wasn't he worried?

"Yeah, she's okay…I think. Not living with Richard anymore. And uh…Susan gave her the number."

I blinked. "She did what? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Man…Pony, if she gives that out to…"

"It don't matter, man." He interrupted me, smiling just a little. "Johnny…she's gonna talk. She's gonna tell the cops everything. I mean…she's gonna talk to Darry and Sodapop first, but then…she's gonna tell that cop everything Richard did to us and then…it'll be safe for us to go home." He choked a little on his words and I dropped a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you…you're serious?"

"Yeah."

"We…we can go home?"

"Yeah." I dropped back on the sofa, my eyes closing as I took a deep breath.

"We can go home." I said it again, finding that it wasn't entirely a good thought. Here, I didn't have to worry about my parents or socs…well, we had to worry about other people jumping us, but still. We had jobs that I actually kind of liked, and we had money to spend. "When?" I asked, crossing my arms and turning to him. He scooted over so he could face me.

"I don't know…she said she was gonna try to do it sometime this week. She's scared, you know? She's scared of Richard and what he'll do if he finds out. I don't blame her…" He trailed off, staring at the floor, then grinned up at me. "It might take a few days, but she said she'd call after she talked to the cops, and then…then we can go home."

"Sometime this week…do we have enough money?"

"We ought to after this week. I mean, we've saved just about everything we made." He reached under the sofa, pulling out the bag Dallas had given him and for the first time I caught sight of the gun. Usually, he was the one that threw the money under some clothes in the bag, but now he pulled it out, putting it on his lap.

"Man, what's with the gun?" I asked, lowering my voice like someone could hear me.

"Dally gave it to me." He shrugged and I nodded. That sounded like Dal. I didn't think Ponyboy could ever shoot anyone, but it was good for him to have protection, especially since he'd come up here alone. It would probably freak Darry out if he knew. Then again, I knew they'd all gone hunting with their dad. I'd never shot a gun before, but Ponyboy had confided in me once that him and Soda just goofed off most of the time since he didn't want to kill anything. Darry had always gotten the most ducks, but Soda had told me that Pony was actually the best shot when they messed around with targets. It made me kind of jealous, sometimes. My old man had never taken me anywhere. I tried not to think that way, though. Pony's parents had been real good to me. Treated me like one of their own kids.

We counted out the money and he was right. We were a little short, and with another paycheck, we'd have just enough for two bus tickets. No food or nothing, but we could make sandwiches and take water or something. They'd make us some food when we got home. Darry and Sodapop were gonna be real happy to have Pony home. And the guys would be glad to see me, I guess. I didn't know about the other stuff…Darry didn't have custody of Ponyboy, but surely after the cops found out what Richard had done, they'd give him custody back! I didn't bring it up. I knew Ponyboy would just worry more if he started thinking about that. I figured we'd take it one step at a time.

Neither of us said much else while we made breakfast. Eggs and the last of the bacon. I wondered if James would miss having us aroudn to cook and grinned a little at the though. It was surreal. We might be leaving soon. I mean, I knew all this was temporary. I knew that we wouldn't stay here forever or nothing. But glory...it was almost over. All the getting jumped and working nights and spending our days cooped up at the libaray or in this apartment. It was almost over. I noticed Pony didn't look as happy as I'd thought and I wondered why. Wasn't he excited? I didn't want to ask. His moods were kind of unpredictable and I wondered if that was because he wasn't feeling great or maybe because he was just scared. Was he scared she was lying? That thought made my stomach clench as I suddenly lost my appetite. What if she was lying? That would leave us back at square one. Stuck here with grocery store jobs, sleeping in some guy's living room. I guess that wasn't fair...James was practically our buddy now. He'd been nice to us. But I still wanted to go home.

We decided to go to church like normal, partially because we liked it, but also because Ponyboy would probably drive himself crazy sitting around the apartment all day, thinking about being able to go home soon. Me too. Dressing and making sure to push the bag back under the sofa, we headed over to the church, Pony's sleeves still covering his wrists. I didn't say anything about it. We'd both had a good time the day before and we were antsy at the idea of going home, so I didn't want to bug him about it…I didn't want him to be upset anymore. I just wanted to feel normal for a while. And I knew Pony did too. I wondered if he'd planned on calling his brothers and telling them, but figured he didn't want to get anyone's hopes up.

It was a quick walk to the church, but before we reached it I turned to Pony. "Should we go ahead and tell Mr. Williams?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"I guess we ought to." His hands were stuck in his pockets and he was staring at his feet while he walked. "I mean…I don't know how long we're gonna be here. She might take a few days to talk to the cops. Or…I don't know. She might not do it." He shrugged, and my heart dropped. So we'd been thinking the same thing. I'd never forgive that girl if she did this to him...if she let him hope then disappointed him. He didn't deserve that shit. "I wouldn't blame her, you know?" He sighed and I nudged him.

"She said she'd talk to them. She's gonna talk to Darry and Soda, then we'll get to go home." He stared at the ground for a moment, then forced a grin.

"Yeah…you're right. She's gonna talk soon." I patted him on the back, both of us climbing the stairs to the church. The usher grinned at us, handing us bulletins and telling us good morning. A few other members of the church smiled at us and wished us a good morning, or asked us how we were doing. We did our best to grin and Pony told them we were fine. I knew he was still kind of uncomfortable since they were all strangers but they were mostly pretty nice.

Thomas was talking to Marcus in the pew where him and Sue and Mr. Williams all sat, and both turned with grins when we walked up. Mr. Williams and Sue weren't there yet, but those two nodded hello. "Hey, kids." Thomas called, waving a little.

"Hey." Pony nodded, grinning as he slipped into a pew. I joined him, sitting down beside him, and the two of them sat down too.

"How's it going?"

"Alright." I shrugged. "You know where Mr. Williams is?"

"He ought to be here soon." Marcus told me. Pony yawned, stretching a little, and I watched the preacher making his way through the crowd, shaking hands and grinning real big, welcoming everybody. Mr. Williams and Sue came in before he made it up to our pew and shook hands with him, then came up to the pew where we were sitting, sitting down beside us.

"Hey, boys. How are you?" Mr. Williams asked.

"We're good. How are you, sir?" Ponyboy asked, and our boss grinned.

"Doing good. Heard you two went swimming yesterday." I grinned.

"Yeah. It was fun."

"Sue said she found you in the library. You two go there often?"

"Just about every weekend." I admitted. He chuckled, breaking off when the pastor approached us, reaching out a hand to me that I took after a second's hesitation.

"Good morning, son. Patrick, right?"

"Yes sir." I agreed, looking forward to when I wouldn't have to pretend to be Patrick anymore and hoping that day came soon.

"And…" he trailed off, holding out a hand that Ponyboy shook with a grin.

"Michael, sir." Pony told him. It was easier for him...at least it was his middle name.

"Good morning, Michael. How are you two doing?"

"We're good, sir." I told him.

"It's good to see you." He nodded to us, turning and heading up to the pulpit after we thanked him. It was a lot nicer here than at the church in Tulsa. I figured if we dropped a hymnal here, they wouldn't all give us dirty looks. I mean, sure, Two-Bit had done it on purpose just to see if the pastor would stop preaching if he did it. Still, I hated that Pony had been so embarrassed, and I'd been pretty embarrassed too. I think Soda had been kind of upset with Two-Bit afterwards…especially when he'd found out that Pony wasn't going to church anymore. It was nice to come here and have people tell us they were glad we were here.

I turned back to Mr. Williams and cleared my throat. "Um…Mr. Williams…there was actually something I needed to talk to you about."

He frowned, looking concerned. "Is anything the matter?" I shook my head, hesitating, as out of the corner of my eye saw Thomas heading over to sit with his family.

"Not…not really." That didn't seem to reassure him. "We, uh…just need to talk to you about work."

He nodded. "Alright." He told me slowly, but the pastor started talking before I could try to explain. Pony settled back in his seat, singing softly when the choir did, his eyes following the words in the hymnal. I wondered if he remembered the songs from when his mom took him to church, or if they sang the same songs as back home. I recognized one or two of them. He could sing pretty good, even though I'd never heard him sing much at home, even with the radio. Usually, he just listened. Then the pastor started talking, and I did my best to listen and not let my mind drift to Rita. Pony hadn't told me much about her…he'd tried to protect her and Lianne from Richard. And as far as I knew, the two hadn't talked much. But really, I had no idea. It wasn't something Pony liked to talk about, so I left it alone, like almost everything else from the time he'd been away. He'd been in a boy's home for months. I had no idea what that had been like. I didn't know if he'd ever want to talk about it. Maybe with Soda...Sodapop could get him to talk about nearly anything. I thought of the scars on his arms and back and amended that though...maybe not anything.

When the service was over and we all stood up, Mr. Williams gestured for us to follow him, and Pony and I followed him down the aisle, occasionally stopping to say hello to someone who wanted to tell us good morning or that they were glad to see us back again. Pony grinned down at his feet, thanking them under his breath and shaking their hands. They were all real friendly…Thomas saw us from across the room, waving a hand and elbowing his dad who gave him a look, shaking his head. Of course, there were some people who turned away from us as we walked by, but most of the people were nice, used to seeing us around, I guess. I recognized a few of them from the store too. Sometimes the older ladies would have us get things from the top shelf for them, then tell us what nice boys we were. It was kind of embarrassing but it was funny to see Pony's ears turn red.

Mr. Williams led us back to the front room where only a few people were milling around in little groups. The pastor was still mingling in the sanctuary, and the front room was pretty quiet. We could just barely hear the lady playing the organ in the other room with the doors shut. "What did you need to talk to me about?" He asked softly, the three of us in a corner.

I hesitated, then decided to tell him the truth. "Um…we got a call from back home and, uh…we might be able to go home sometime before next week."

He lifted his eyebrows, then nodded slowly. "Really?"

"It's not for sure yet." Pony put in, glancing around. "I mean…we might have to wait a little while longer but…I think we're gonna be able to go home soon."

Mr. Williams considered him for a moment, then softened a little, smiling. "That's good." He reached out a hand and put it on Ponyboy's shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it, son. Just let me know when you're leaving and we'll get you your last paycheck."

"Thank you, sir." I told him quietly, reaching out and shaking his hand. He patted my hand with his other one, but it didn't feel condescending or nothing...just nice.

"But you plan on being at work this week?" He confirmed.

"Yes, sir. I think so." Pony told him.

"Good. We're having dinner after the service today. Would the two of you like to join us?"

"Sure they're gonna join us!" Thomas called, Marcus behind him as they pushed the double doors that led to the sanctuary open, their voices almost too loud. They were both dressed in nice suits and I felt kind of shabby in my jeans and somewhat clean t-shirt. I think Pony was feeling the same way, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Come on, kids. Let's go eat." He threw an arm around me, tugging me forward. I glanced at Pony who shrugged, smiling.

"Might as well." He told me quickly, following Thomas and me through a side room and down some stairs where tables were set up, full of food. A bunch of older ladies were talking in small groups and putting more food on the tables. A big bowl of punch was on one table, and a bunch of cups were stacked beside it. They were all covered with plastic tablecloths and metal folding chairs were set up around all of the tables.

Soon lots of people were down in the basement, standing in line for lunch and piling plates with food. Sue joined us, gesturing for us to follow her, and we all got in line with Marcus and Thomas, piling our plates with mashed potatoes and green beans and hot dogs. Thomas went to sit with his dad, and Mr. Williams invited us to sit with them. I was surprised that no one said anything mean, and it was real nice to have dinner that someone had made for us with Mr. Williams and his family. Not quite like being back home, but almost. I knew some people didn't want us there, but at least they were keeping quiet about it.

The next day, Pony and I headed to work as usual, both of us keeping an eye out as we walked to work. No one bugged us though, and as soon as we got to work, Mr. Williams called us back to his desk, the two of us sitting down across from him, waiting. "I just wanted to let the two of you know that even if you aren't able to go home just yet, you'll still have a job here. And if things don't work out and you need to come back, I can find a place for you two." He told us, speaking softly as he leaned across the desk.

"Yes sir…thank you." Ponyboy told him softly.

He nodded. "Of course. You two have been doing a real good job around here, and I appreciate how you protected Sue from those boys." Pony seemed to pale a little, his jaw clenched as he stared down at the floor. Mr. Williams got up from his desk, stepping around it and sitting on the edge of it, closer to us. He seemed to think about putting a hand on Pony's shoulder but he paused, dropping his hand back in his lap. "Is it really going to be safe for you to go home?" He asked.

Pony glanced at me, seeming to ask a question, and I shrugged. He already knew some of it. "My…my foster sister…she called. Said she was gonna tell the cops what that guy was like…our foster father. He was the reason it wasn't safe for me to go home." Mr. Williams hummed softly, nodding. "I don't know if she's gonna do it…it ain't safe for her either."

"Like I said, you two got jobs either way. Everything going okay with your…cousin?"

"Yeah. He's fine." I told him. "He ain't gonna kick us out." I hoped that was true, but a part of me was already planning for it. If she let us down, then we might eventually have to find our own place to stay. I wasn't quite old enough to get my own place, but I could maybe pass for eighteen...if James vouced for me with someone around here. Pony and I would have to keep working though...we'd never be able to go back to school. That would be a shame...but maybe Sodapop and Darry could visit, at least. Whatever happened, I was staying with Ponyboy. No way I'd leave him alone up here again.

"Good. Alright. You two can go ahead and get to work." He stood up, going back to his spot behind his desk, and Pony and I did as he'd asked, getting to work stocking the shelves. We did that for a while, then cleaning, mopping and dusting, Pony going over to the windows and cleaning those too. I wondered as we worked if we'd be able to get jobs when we got back home. I didn't know if Darry and Sodapop would let Ponyboy…they'd probably want him to wait until he was sixteen, but I could always get a job at a grocery store or something now. Maybe Mr. Williams would give me a reference. That might make it easier. Then I'd have my own money…plus I wouldn't have to be home as much. Then maybe Darrel and Sodapop would let me sleep on the sofa more often.

All I knew was that when I went home, I didn't want to go back to how things had been. I didn't want to go back to getting knocked around by my old man all the time and screamed at by my old lady. I didn't want to be scared to be in my own home…so I just wouldn't go there. My parents didn't give a shit about me. It sucked by it was true. Darry and Soda and the rest of the gang did. Heck, Pony was like my brother and the rest of the guys were my family too. Dally didn't have a family that cared about him...Steve neither, and both of them were okay. I would be too.

Rita didn't call back for two more days. Pony and I went to work on Tuesday and Wednesday, and both nights Marcus came back after walking Sue home, hanging around the store until we were done at eleven, then walking us home. On Tuesday he came in with us at Pony's invitation, nodding a hello at a started James. James hadn't said anything much, just nodding back and offering him a beer. Marcus took one, then sat on the couch with us and asked James if he'd heard anything from Pete.

"Nah…he's been pretty quiet. They're probably getting ready for the rumble this weekend." Marcus glanced at us for a second.

"You kids any good in a rumble?" He asked. I shrugged and Pony nodded a little.

"We do fine." That was an exaggeration. We were okay fighters, but we were both pretty small, and even though he was doing better than he had been last week, he was still kind of shaky looking. He'd lost weight and hadn't gained it back yet, and he got tired a lot at work, still. I figured it was because he wasn't eating enough, but he claimed he didn't have much of an appetite. I thought he might need a doctor, but I wasn't exactly qualified to make that call. I guess Pony didn't want to tell them that we might be going home soon, but I wondered if we'd even be in town by the weekend. I wondered if that girl would call and we'd get to go home sooner. We'd both been waiting, me getting kind of antsy. I didn't hate it in New York or nothing, but I missed being somewhere I knew…and I missed the guys too. Having people around who I knew had my back.

"Those two ain't fighting in no rumble." James cut in, shaking his head, his voice firm. "Just look at the little one. He ain't a hundred pounds, and the short one's barely that." I gave him a look, somewhat offended, but he just grinned a little. He reminded me a lot of Dally so it was hard to be mad at him. "These two ain't fighting." He repeated. "They been beat up enough, and the little one's apparently got a real big brother who's gonna be out for my blood if I let something happen to him. My old buddy, too. Dal's gonna be pissed enough when he finds out yous two got jumped."

"He already knows." I admitted, and he sighed, leaning back.

"Well shit." He muttered, and Marcus grinned.

"Wasn't your fault. You can't be with us all the time. Besides, we're fine." He looked at Pony for a minute, then rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you sure look it." He turned to Marcus then. "I gotta head to work for a couple of hours. You want something to eat or something?"

"Nah, I'm alright. Thanks, man." He reached out, shaking James's hand. "I'll see you kids tomorrow."

"Thanks, Marcus." Pony called as our new friend headed out the door, letting it slam behind him. Marcus waved a lazy hand over his shoulder, and then he was gone. James watched the shut door for a minute, then jumped up.

"See you kids tomorrow." He told us simply, grabbing his wallet and following Marcus out the door. I heard the lock click behind him.

It was Wednesday night, around one in the morning. We were both sleeping, and James was out with his friends or something. They stayed out late even when they weren't working, but he was pretty good at being quiet when he came in late. Or, early, I guess. I usually didn't hear him. Even when he was drunk, he tried to be quiet. Once he came in at four in the morning, tripped over something, and just about fell on top of me. Pony had laughed so hard I'd thought he was crying for a minute, the way he shook under the covers. I guess the sight of that tough hood trying to tiptoe drunk through his own living room was pretty funny.

This time, we were alone in the house, and the phone rang five times before Pony managed to drag himself over to it, reaching out and grabbing it from the table. It about fell on his face and he held it against the side of his head, still laying down. "Hello?" He mumbled. We'd gone to bed right after work, both of us pretty tired, and I figured we'd sleep in in the morning. He seemed to wake up all of a sudden, though, sitting upright so fast it made me jump a little. "Yeah? You are?" He asked, leaning forward, his elbow on his knee, jaw tight. "Okay…"

Suddenly he seemed to deflate, dropping back against the sofa. "Okay. Yeah. Yeah, we can. Okay." He was quiet for a long time, then listening. I sat up, cross legged on the floor, and tried to catch his eye, hoping to figure out if it was who I thought it was and was reminded again that he hadn't called his brothers in just about a week. Maybe more. Things had been kind of crazy, I guess, but I figured they were worried sick about him. After we'd gone swimming, then church…then waiting for Rita to call back, I guess we'd been distracted. Darry wasn't gonna like that excuse, though.

"Bye." His voice was about hoarse when he hung up, and he swallowed real hard, his head back against the couch.

"Pone?" I asked, sitting up on my knees to try and get a better look at him in the dark. "Was it her?"

"Yeah." He muttered.

"Rita?" I confirmed, not willing to leave this to chance.

"Yeah."

"What did she say?"

He released a long, watery sigh, sniffing a little. "She talked to my brothers a few hours ago…agreed to talk to the fuzz. Darry called that cop he knows and she told him everything. They…they've got a warrant out for Richard." His voice broke a little, and I wondered if I'd ever heard him say the guy's name when he wasn't sick or half-asleep. He sniffed again, trying to keep it together. "She said the cop just called the house…said Richard wasn't home and his wife didn't know anything. They arrested her too. They think one of his friends is hiding him." He took a long breath but didn't say anything else.

"Where is she?"

"She said she's staying with a friend for the night. She didn't tell them that she'd talked to us…said she wasn't supposed to know where we were. She was at a payphone."

"Dally ain't gonna want us to come home…not before they catch him."

"I don't care." He told me softly. "I want to go home." I stood up, then dropped onto the sofa beside him. He wasn't crying…just staring at his lap, hands clenched. I put a hand on his shoulder, thinking carefully. It wasn't safe yet. We wouldn't be safe…well, Pony wouldn't. And after all this…if Pony got hurt…then what was the point of any of this. But I wanted to go home too. And I knew he'd be better off with his brothers. "I can stay with Dally at Buck's. I mean…drop by, see Soda and Darry, but stay with Dally. Buck's place should be safe. At least until they catch that guy. There's people there all the time, and Dally's got a gun." Pony did too, but neither of us mentioned it. "I want to go home. I haven't seen them in almost a year." He whispered.

He was right. And maybe we would have to stay at Buck's or somewhere else. Heck, with Tim or something. But the guys back home would keep us safe. Us. Us, because I sure wasn't about to leave him. Not now. He was my best friend and my brother and I was sticking by him until I was sure he was safe. He'd been away from his family for so long, and it was time to go home. Squeezing his shoulder, I nodded. "Tomorrow, we'll tell Mr. Williams. We'll take those books back to the library, and see if we can get our paychecks. We'll tell James and we'll call Dally…tell him we're coming and ask him not to tell anybody just in case…then we'll go home."

 _ **Thank you for reading! :)**_


	39. A Visit

A Visit

The knock on the door startled all of us, and I glanced over at Sodapop, wondering if he knew anything. Obviously not, because he was giving me the same look. Officer Charlton hadn't called, but maybe he'd found something! I didn't even let myself think that it could be Pony waiting for me at the door. That would hurt too much. I'd done that to myself once or twice the first week he'd gone missing…glory that hurt like nothing else. Steve and Dally were the only other ones here, Steve and Soda together on the sofa and Dally cross-legged on the floor. We didn't really have enough people for a decent game of poker, so we had been playing rummy. Soda didn't want to go out, and it seemed like Steve was fine with that.

We were all waiting for Pony to call. It had been almost a week now. I was doing my best not to worry. He was probably busy. He was…something. Something was wrong. I knew it. Something was wrong and I was about three seconds from tying Dallas up and making him call James. Then I would force James to put Pony on the phone and demand to know what was going on. It all sounded ridiculous, even to me…but I needed to know what was going on. Pushing all of those thoughts away, I dropped the cards on the table, standing slowly and heading over to the front door, pulling it open.

The girl on the other side was wearing a pair of jeans and a man's t-shirt like Pony would wear to bed. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail and hidden under a blue baseball cap. She was probably around Soda's age, but the thing that took me back was the bruise around her eye. When she looked up at me, her face emerging from the shadow under her baseball cap, it was the first thing I saw. The blue and brown skin surrounded her partially swollen eye, and her lip had a cut going through the middle, the skin there bruised as well. Her arms, too, were covered in bruises shaped like fingerprints that went all the way from her wrists to her sleeves, and I would bet some good money that they were under her sleeves on her shoulders too. They peeked out from under her collar too, and I had to fight to make eye contact.

Never in my life had I hit a girl. Our father had drilled it into all three of us, and our pals too, that hitting a woman was one of the most contemptible things you could do. Even Dal, rough as they came, never got rough with girls. I thought back to the girls he'd been harassing at the movies and amended that. Sure, he'd bug 'em and mess around with them, but someone had _beat_ this girl. She looked like one of us after a rumble, but it looked worse on her somehow.

She didn't quite meet my eyes, her expression distant and uninterested, but when I asked if I could help her, she finally forced her eyes to mine, teeth digging into her lower lip. "Are you Darrel Curtis?" She finally asked, her voice almost too soft to hear. I nodded.

"Yeah." Behind me, the guys were quiet, obviously trying to listen in. I waited, wondering if she was going to offer anything else. It took a minute, but she did.

"Are you...you're Ponyboy's big brother?" I felt my blood freeze as I nodded again.

"Yeah, I am."

She nodded, looking decisive as she almost smiled up at me. "I'm Rita. His foster sister." The almost-smile disappeared as soon as it had appeared. "Can…can I speak to you, for a moment?" I nodded immediately.

"Yeah...of course. Come in." I stepped back, giving her room, but she still hesitated for a long minute, her eyes warily on me, before stepping in, then froze again in the doorway when she caught sight of the other guys.

Dal nodded, just a tilt of his chin, but his expression was pretty friendly, considering. Soda stood, Steve following suit, and they stepped away from the sofa, giving her some space. "You, uh…wanna sit?" Soda offered, gesturing toward the seat, and she nodded after a second.

"Thanks." The girl murmured, taking the seat and making herself as small as possible, her feet tucked under the sofa, her body all the way back, arms crossed as she shrank from all of us. Dal didn't move from where he sat, and I returned to the recliner. Soda sat in the chair and Steve sat beside him on the floor, all of us watching her. It was rare that we actually had girls over...not since Sandy had left town…at least, it had been rare until Susie had started spending most of her time in our living room, reading or watching TV, obviously bored but rarely complaining.

After our parents, I hadn't really had much time to meet any girls. Soda hadn't been up for it after Sandy, and I wondered if he would be anytime soon. He'd been pretty broken up about her, not that he'd talked to me about it. That had been more his and Pony's thing. Not that I hadn't tried. And Pony...well, he hadn't really had _any_ friends over after our parents. I thought about that for a second, the thought taking me aback.

It was exactly what I'd worried about after we'd lost them. He'd seemed to withdraw from everyone, especially any friends he'd had at school. Before, when our parents had been alive, I'd sometimes get home from work to find him and some friend of his I didn't recognize at the kitchen table, working on a project or reading something for school. Not once since our parents had died had he brought anyone from school over. I wondered briefly if he'd thought he couldn't bring people over or something. I mean…it hadn't been true, but I hadn't hated him either and yet I'd somehow given him that impression.

Even when our parents had been alive, he'd never had girls over. I think Sodapop had worried a little, sometimes asking Pony if there were any pretty girls in his class, and Pony would always shrug, not really giving an answer. I figured he was just too young to notice girls, or maybe he was embarrassed and didn't want to talk about it. Either way, neither of us had pushed. I'd figured I had more important things to worry about for the moment.

"So…" I prompted, smiling a little. "What can we do for you?" I made sure to lean back, arms loose at my sides as I watched her. The other kids in that house had been beaten plenty, and according to the other guys in that house, that's not all Richard had done to her.

Ponyboy's foster sister glanced over at the other guys, her eyes lingering on Soda, and she gave him a small, almost secretive smile. "You're his other brother. Sodapop." He grinned.

"Yeah, I am."

"You look just like him. Or...he looks like you, I guess." She hesitated, looking at the floor for a moment. "I was…" She broke off, shaking her head. "I want to help." Rita spoke the words like they had been dragged out of her mouth. "He...your little brother...shit." She smiled at the floor, the cuss word sounding kind of weird in her soft voice. "I don't even know where to start." We were all quiet, waiting, except for Soda.

"You want some water or something? Beer?" She finally looked up, shaking her head as she seemed to relax a bit, her shoulders coming down from where they'd been tensed up against her ears.

"No…thank you though. I just...he's alive, right? Ponyboy. He's alive."

"Yeah." Soda answered her. She nodded, the smile growing as she looked down at the floor in front of the coffee table for a second before meeting my eyes again.

"That cop came by before we all left. Officer Charlton, right?" I nodded. "He told us that they suspected he was alive and asked if we had any information. Then they asked us about Richard. Course, none of us said anything. He was in the other room. He would have killed us." She didn't even hesitate, which led me to believe that she really meant it. "So he's hiding somewhere, and I assume you know where..."

"If you think we're gonna tell ya…" Dally started, and she turned and pinned him with a smile that seemed to have frozen on her face, her finger making a gun she pointed at his face.

"You came to the house." Rita broke in. It wasn't a question, but he nodded, and she glanced over at Soda. "You too." I frowned, staring at my brother who was refusing to meet my eyes. "I thought it was him…from the road, you looked like him." For a moment, she was quiet, then the smile dropped and her eyes were haunted and far off. "I was there." She told us, then went on, clarifying. "The night that Richard and his friends killed Lianne. I know at least two of the men there. I saw them try to kill your little brother. And I'll testify for you…for him. I'll tell your cop friend everything."

Silence. My limbs were numb, my mouth dropping open. Our friends and my brother all looked the same, a hope that scared me growing in Soda's eyes. I couldn't bear to see that hope crushed. Not again. Steve must have felt the same, because he spoke up. "Why?" He snapped a little, and she cringed, the confident expression dropping as she leaned back against the sofa. He must have noticed because he softened his tone. "Why would you want to risk everything to help some kid?"

The girl looked him straight on, biting down on her lip, then dropping her eyes again, apparently unable to hold eye contact. "He risked everything to help me." She admitted, her voice barely audible. "Every day…well…every night." There was silence for a minute, all of us waiting and her trying to gather the courage to go on. Finally, she crossed her arms, looking all of us straight on, eyes scanning the room like she was giving a speech. "It wasn't so bad for him for the first few days." She explained, the random statement taking me back a little. Apparently, she'd decided to start at the beginning. "Then Richard caught him smoking about three days in and…well, you know what he does to smokers, I guess."

"Your foster brothers told us." Soda told her, and she smiled a little, the look sad.

"They said they'd found you." Rita looked like she wanted to say something else about that, but shook her head and continued her story. "That first night, after the social worker brought him back, he heard Richard..." She hesitated for a long time, and we were all silent, knowing what she was going to say but all too afraid to tell her. Dal stared at his hands in his lap, jaw tight, and Steve leaned back, arms crossed. Soda was looking at her, though, eyes sad and tired. "Ever since I came to that house, he'd come into my room at night. Since I was thirteen. And that night Ponyboy heard. Your little brother came into my room and pulled Richard off of me...punched him in the nose. Richard...his wife didn't know, at least not for sure, so he couldn't make a whole lot of noise at night when she was asleep. Pony got about two good hits in before Richard got a hold of him…" My blood turned to ice once more, and I clenched my hands in my lap.

"How bad?" Soda asked. I knew he was okay now. Ponyboy had gotten away. I should be able to hear this, I told myself firmly. Rita gave a sad smile and looked at me instead of my brother.

"Honestly?" I nodded. I needed to know. I needed to know what Pony had been through. All of it. I mean…he'd lived through it. The least I could do was hear it. "I thought I was going to have to take him to the hospital. Didn't know how I was going to, though." The girl admitted. "I tried to get him on the bed but he was too heavy. I mean…he's pretty small, but he was unconscious for almost an hour. When he finally woke up, he refused. Told me he wasn't going to the hospital, and besides, we would have had to steal Richard's truck…no way he could have walked. He wouldn't get on the bed either. Said he was fine on the floor...maybe because he couldn't get up. Coughed up blood all night." I flinched and Soda dropped his head into his hands.

"Every night afterwards, Ponyboy came into my room at night. The first night, I was so scared it was Richard…but he just sat down…laid on the floor at the foot of my bed, like a dog." She laughed a little, wiping at her eye a little. "Richard came in and Pony just stood up…crossed his arms and stood there, like Richard hadn't just about killed him the other day. Every night he'd disappear, but he'd always be back before Richard came into my room, and he'd sleep at the foot of my bed. Heck…I don't think he slept much. Sometimes Richard would hit him and Ponyboy would try to fight him. Other times he'd just leave. Lianne slept on the other bed when she moved in, and I heard her tell him once that if he didn't stop, Richard might settle for him sometime. He didn't say anything, but he kept sleeping in our room. It's why Richard wouldn't let up on him. If he'd have just kept his mouth shut and stayed out of his way, Richard would have left him alone like he did the other guys for the most part. But...Pony wouldn't let him hurt me."

He hadn't let that man hurt his foster sister. My little brother, who was a full head shorter and probably half my size, had stood up to the man who had beaten and burned and outright terrorized him every night…because he wouldn't let him hurt the girl they lived with. Glory, I was proud of him. I mean…I'd always known that my little brother was no coward. He was a good fighter for his size and he did just fine when we rumbled. But he was still just a kid, and Richard was a grown man who'd pretty much tortured him, and still he'd stood up to him, over and over, no matter how often he'd hurt him. I could see it in Soda's eyes too, and even Steve and Dal were grinning a little.

Then I remembered our conversation with Mark and Tyler. They hadn't known that Pony was sleeping in the room across the hall from them. So how could they know that their foster father had never hurt him in the same way he'd hurt the girls in the house. I mean…Ponyboy had stopped him from doing something he'd been at for years. He would have been angry.

"Did Richard ever...settle for him?" I made myself ask. If anyone would know that, this girl would. In the chair, Soda stiffened, his breath catching. Dally crossed his arms tight over his chest, glaring at his lap now, and Steve watched the girl intently. The other guys, Mark and Tyler, had said no, but they hadn't seemed to know about this part of the story, so maybe they just hadn't seen it. Or maybe they just hadn't wanted to hurt us.

The girl shook her head slowly. "Not that I know of. He did his homework at school, or at the house, and then right before Richard got home, he'd sneak off, I guess to that bar or the library or something. But he'd always sneak home before Richard came into my room, and he'd lay down on the floor by my bed."

After a moment, Rita sighed and continued. "Richard wouldn't always come in, but Ponyboy stayed on my bedroom floor every night, just in case he did. I don't suppose he got much sleep, but he never complained. And as far as I know, he kept doing good and school. Then…I don't know this part for sure, guys." She admitted, rubbing a hand down her face. "Richard chose that bar on purpose. I think he knew that Ponyboy would hide out there…and I think he wanted to kill two birds with one stone."

"How?" Dal wanted to know. She shrugged.

"No idea. I can't even know that for sure. But he seemed to know everything. He has friends all over town…maybe one of them spotted your brother. I was in my bedroom, and Lianne was in the kitchen. Mark and Tyler were out, and I heard him tell her to come with him. And I knew…I mean, I didn't know where, but I knew. She'd been worse than usual. I told her to stop…that she shouldn't antagonize him. Ponyboy tried to stick up for her. He took plenty of beatings for her. But it was like she couldn't stop herself." I thought of Two-Bit and cringed a little. "They took his friend's truck, so I took Richard's. Idiot was always leaving his keys on the table. Locked himself out all the time and he'd wake everyone up on Friday nights beating on the front door at three am when he was out drinking with his friends. I followed them…"

"He didn't see you?" Steve was incredulous, and I shared the feeling. But Rita only smiled, looking both disgusted and amused.

"He was too drunk. He drinks all the time…it's why he can't keep a job. His friend, a cop, was driving. They were following another car with three of his biker buddies and another cop. I didn't get there until they had her out of the car and he hit her. I parked around front and went around…I think he saw Ponyboy. Looked right at the bar where he was hiding. I think your brother was looking at Lianne though…I thought he was going to go over there…try to help her. That might have been what Richard wanted, but I can't be sure. He could have got the cop to kill him…tell everyone that he'd attacked the cop first or something. No one was going to look into some foster kid with a history of attacking people."

"Ponyboy didn't attack anyone!" Soda snapped, leaning in. I was afraid he'd scared her, but she just shook her head.

"You and I know that, but you know how people are. It would be easy for Richard to make your brother look like some hood that went around starting fights. He has half of the police department to back him up." The girl sighed. "Ponyboy just stood there, though. There was nothing he could do…I don't know if he knew that or if he was just in shock. They…well, I think you can guess what they did. Not all of them but…Richard stabbed her in the end." She broke off, reaching up at wiping at her bruised eye. Her voice was weak when she continued. "He screamed then. The cop came after him…had a busted bottle and he got Pony in the head with it while one of the others grabbed him. Got his jacket and stabbed him in the side."

"How…how did he get away?" I asked, clearing my throat so my voice wouldn't give out. I knew why Ponyboy hadn't tried to help. Just like Dal had said…he'd been in shock, and I thanked God for it. Had he been thinking right, he'd have rushed in and gotten himself killed. But I knew he'd feel guilty. Like it was his fault. He wouldn't be able to see that he'd been set up…that Richard wanted to kill him and the girl both. That they were getting in his way. I'd need to talk to him about that. Or rather, I'd need _him_ to talk about it. He hadn't yet, I was sure of that. He'd bottle it up until he blew up.

"I don't know." She admitted, sniffing and brushing at her eyes again. When she looked up at us, they were red, and her face was pleading, like she was asking something of us. "I don't know. I thought he was dead. They had him…he should be dead. I knew if he caught me…that if he somehow found out that I'd taken his truck, he'd kill me too. So I went home and…I hid in my bedroom." Rita wiped her eyes again, the tears coming too fast for her to keep up with. "He stood up for us. He put himself in Richard's way and got himself beaten and burned and risked his life for me, every night. And I couldn't even watch…"

Soda was so white he looked like he was about to fall over. He dropped his head after a second, wiping at his own eyes, and Steve put a hand on his shoulder.

"You know better than that," Dal spoke up, surprising us all. Rita looked up at him, tears still dripping down her face. "Wasn't nothing you could do, no more than Pony. If you'd have butted in, he'd have been trying to keep you safe, and they'd be three dead kids behind that bar instead of one. Ponyboy's a good fighter…fast too. He got away and came to me, and I got him out of town. He's fine…him and his friend are staying with a buddy of mine. So don't worry about the kid." He was gruff, almost mean sounding, but the girl smiled, the tears slowing as she managed to wipe them away.

"You're probably right. Either way, I'm glad he's safe now. I never…I never even thanked him, you know? Never told him how much it meant that he was willing to help me. Heck…I kind of wish he was my real brother. You're lucky to have a little brother like him." She told me, and I felt pride and guilt mingle in my chest. How would she feel if she knew that I'd let myself get so upset with him that I'd hit him, driving him out of the house?

"Yeah…yeah, we are." Soda told her, sniffing a little and looking up.

"So you wanna help?" Dallas asked. She nodded, pulling herself together.

"If your cop wants to try to put him away, I'll testify. I'll tell them everything…and there's a lot to tell. I'll tell that cop everything…today, if you want, then, well…maybe he can arrest him. Soon. Before another kid ends up in that hellhole." She was quiet for a second. "And if Ponyboy talks too…well, our testimony of seeing him kill Lianne and how he's treated us should be enough to put him away."

"He the one that give you that bruise?" Steve wanted to know.

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No…wasn't him."

"Then who?" Soda asked, his voice dangerous. Ponyboy had protected her. The least we could do was pick up where he'd left off. She gave him a brief smile.

"My boyfriend turned out to be as big of an asshole as Richard. But I took care of it." She shrugged. "That's the last black eye a man's gonna give me without getting one back." I didn't doubt her.

"And the guy's friends? The cops?" Dal asked, changing the subject.

"Not all of the cops are bad. I can give you a list of the dirty ones…or most of them. They come to the house all the time."

"And…you'll talk to Officer Charlton?" I asked.

"We can go now if you want. Or call him and get him to come here." I couldn't believe it…it was too easy. After everything, I felt like it should be harder.

"You can stay here…if you want." Soda told Pony's foster sister quietly. I nodded, then remembered the brick through our window. He knew where we lived.

"Or with one of our buddies. Two-Bit…he's a good friend of ours, would let you stay. He lives with his mom and his little sister. They wouldn't mind." With Two-Bit either home or over here every night and Tim and his boys patrolling the neighborhood, no one had dared to bother them again.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Actually, that would be great…if I could stay with your friend for a day or two." She paused, looking me up and down. "You got a gun? I mean…you seem like the kind of guy who'd have a gun. No offense." I grinned a little.

"Yeah, we got a gun. A gun and a spare room in case you need it." She smiled then, pushing her hair back and showing another bruise on her neck that she seemed unaware of.

"Thank you." She could take turns staying with us and with Two-Bit, since Tim and the rest of us were keeping watch.

"You'll talk to him now?" Soda clarified, looking like he was about to jump out of that chair, and she smiled at him, nodding. It was hard to watch...he was getting his hopes up. He'd gotten his hopes up before...Steve met my eyes, looking as worried as I was.

"You can call him and have him come here, or we can go to the station…either way, I'll give him a list of names and I'll tell him what Richard did to me. Whatever lets you get your little brother back. I'll do it." Soda looked like he was about to blow up, but I couldn't even move. I couldn't believe it. It was too easy. I couldn't let myself believe it…if it turned out not to be true, I was gonna die. I wouldn't be able to take it.

"Darry…are you gonna call or what?" Soda suddenly demanded, jumping to his feet, and I nodded, trying to smile and grabbing the phone. This was my chance to get Ponyboy back. This girl was gonna testify…suddenly my heart was racing as I held the phone to my ear, dialing. I was going to get my little brother back. I was going to get my little brother back. Ponyboy was going to be able to come home. Taking a deep breath and willing my eyes not to water, I greeted Officer Charlton and did my best not to hope too much.

 _ **I hope you enjoyed the chpater :)**_


	40. Last Day

**_Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and read so far. I hope you enjoy the new chapter :) I really appreciate all of you._**

 _Last Day_

We woke up early, me having barely fallen asleep in the first place. I knew Johnny was the same. We both lay on our makeshift beds and I stared at the ceiling, so anxious to leave that I was nearly shaking. I knew I ought to sleep…but I got to go home soon. I wanted to go home so bad…I'd get up right then and get Johnny and buy a bus ticket if I could, but I knew it wouldn't be the right way to go. We had things we had to get done before we left. Library books to return, a job to leave…and we needed to thank James. Honestly, without him, I don't know what I would have done. Died, probably. Plus, we'd need that last paycheck to buy the tickets. We were only a few dollars short, but we weren't gonna get it anywhere else.

I knew I should call my brothers. I missed talking to them and I knew they were worried…but I didn't want to talk to them on the phone. I wanted to _see_ them! I wanted to talk to them in person and hug them and go home and be in the same place as them for the first time in almost a year. Glory it hurt how bad I missed them, and I wanted the next time we talked to be in person. It wasn't fair, none of it, but maybe I could surprise them. I could come home and step through the door and even though Darry didn't have custody of me yet and even though I might have to go back to a boy's home, at least I'd be able to see them for just a minute.

I made breakfast for the last time, frying eggs and toasting bread since we were out of bacon. James was still in bed, I guess, and Johnny and I decided not to wake him. We'd be back soon anyway to get our stuff. We were going home. I couldn't quit grinning at my food as I ate, and Johnny kicked me in the foot, grinning too. "Think they'll be surprised?" I asked, and he chuckled.

"Yeah, man, they're gonna be real surprised. They miss you more than anything." I nodded, feeling my eyes get hot and my chest get tight. I was going to see my brothers again.

"Darry still doesn't have custody." I told him, trying to tamp down on the hope. "There's gotta be a hearing or something. To see if he can get custody back."

"He's been talking to a cop a lot…maybe he can help out. And even if you don't get to stay with him at first, at least you'll get to see them. And if you gotta go back to a boy's home, it ain't gonna be for long." He assured me softly, and I nodded. He was right. No matter what, at least I'd get to see my brothers for a little while, and then we'd figure it out from there. Darry would take care of it.

After we did the dishes, making sure to clean up as much as we could, we grabbed our library books and headed out the door. The sun was already beating down and I fought the urge to pull my sleeves up. I didn't want to look at my arms…didn't want to think about it. Not now. Not when I was so excited about going him. Instead, I wiped my brow and ignored the concerned look Johnny shot me, just grinning a little and walking with him toward the library. I kind of wished we could take some books with us, but then we'd leave James owing money and that seemed like a crappy thing to do to him after he'd let us stay, even if he'd probably never go back to the library again.

The old lady with her hair in a bun who I'd seen just about every time we'd gone to the library was at the front desk and she smiled up at us as we walked through the front door, the air conditioning hitting me immediately. It felt great, and I used my sleeve to wipe my forehead again, smiling back at her. "Good morning, boys." She greeted us. She'd been real nice from the beginning, while a few of the other women that worked there would give us dirty looks when we came in like we were gonna steal the books or something. She always asked how we were, though, and even though she'd never asked our names or anything, and I didn't know hers, I was grateful that she'd been so nice.

"Good morning." Johnny greeted, putting his stack of books on the counter and pushing them over to her.

"How are you this morning?" She asked as I put my own books down.

"Good, thanks." I told her, smiling. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well." She took our books, checking them in. "Off to find some more?" She asked.

"No ma'am." Johnny shook his head. "We're actually heading home today."

"Really? Where's home?" She wondered, and he hesitated before I spoke up.

"Oklahoma."

"Wow. That's a long trip. Do you have family there?" She asked, concerned. I nodded.

"Yeah." Johnny told her. "Most of our family's there. We were just…visiting for a bit." I'd told her that I was with a foster family here, but she didn't seem to remember…or maybe she'd known I was lying.

"Well, I hope you boys have a safe trip. It was nice to meet you this summer."

"You too." I took a step back, lifting up a hand to wave, and Johnny did the same. I realized that I'd miss her, even though we'd never even had a conversation, and for a minute I felt kind of dumb…but she'd been one of the first people to be nice to me here in New York. I'd miss that.

After dropping off our books, we headed over to Mr. William's store, the bell over the door ringing when we stepped inside. There was someone I only sort of recognized at the register…an older lady who lifted an eyebrow when we stepped inside. I knew Sue didn't get there until three or so…her dad didn't want her spending her entire summer vacation working at the store. "Good morning Michael. Patrick." She greeted, nodding to us.

"Hey, Mrs. Summers. Is Mr. Williams here?" He asked. I found myself looking around the store, realizing it was the last time I was probably ever going to see it. I looked at the shelves Johnny and I had stocked and the floors we'd swept and wondered when I'd have a job again. Darry probably wouldn't let me, not for a while, and I wasn't too upset at that thought. Darry cared about me and wanted me to do good in school and not have to worry about money. I couldn't understand how I'd ever resented that.

"Sure. He's in the back at his desk." She waved a hand toward the door and we headed through, finding him sitting at his desk. He glanced up when we entered, his eyebrows lifting.

"Good morning, boys. Everything alright." He looked us up and down, apparently looking to see if we'd gotten jumped again or something. I nodded.

"Yeah…we're alright." He gestured to the seats across from his desk and we sat down, me kind of fidgety. I mean…we'd told him we'd be working all week. What if he wouldn't give us our paychecks He'd been nice enough to give us a job…but all we needed was a little bit more money to get back home. To get back to my family.

"What's going on?" He wanted to know.

"We, um…we heard from our friends back home. They're gonna arrest that guy…and um…it's safe for us to go home now." I managed to get out. He smiled, leaning forward, his hands folded.

"Well that's great." He looked between us, eyes narrowing as he seemed to realize something was wrong. "What? Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Yeah." Johnny told him. "But, uh…we really wanted to try and head home today. Tonight." He elaborated.

Mr. Williams nodded slowly, lips pressed together in a tight line. "I see." He murmured. I stared down at my lap, not able to keep eye contact. I was better at it than before, but still not great. Especially when someone was possibly upset with me. I hated Richard so much. "What you're saying is, you want your paychecks early."

"Yes, sir." I muttered, eyes on the ground, my hands clasped in my lap. Johnny stared at his lap too, and I could feel Mr. Williams's eyes on us. For a long moment, there was silence, and the room was heavy with it. If he said no, we'd have to try and figure out how to get home without it. Or…or we'd have to wait. It wouldn't be the end of the world, but just the thought of staying here another night…of not going home…my hands were shaking and it made my stomach turn over. I wanted to go home. I felt like I had when I was a little kid and Dad hadn't been able to take us fishing at the last minute or I'd wanted to go somewhere and Mom had said no…the disappointment was overwhelming and I didn't even want to think about it. Not yet.

"I'll give you boys your money right now, on one condition." We both looked up, hesitant. He stood up from behind his desk, moving around to sit on the front of us, regarding us seriously. "I want your phone number." We both paused and I looked up, blinking in surprise.

"What?"

"I want to be able to reach you…make sure you boys get home safe." I glanced over at Johnny, both of us wide-eyed and confused.

"Um…yeah…sure," I told him, blinking in surprise. "Of course. I can give you my house number. Heck, you can have my address if you want it." Grinning in relief when he smiled, I released a long breath, half laughing. Johnny smiled too, nodding.

"Mine too, if you want." He offered. Mr. Williams chuckled.

"I'm glad to hear that everything's getting figured out at home for you boys." He leaned in, putting a hand on Johnny's shoulder. He hesitated before doing the same to me. "You boys have been good workers. If you need to come back, like I said, you're welcome. And if you need letters of recommendation, I'd be happy to write them for you." He squeezed my shoulder and then sat back. "How are you getting home?" He asked, getting up and sitting behind the desk again, pulling out a key and unlocking a desk drawer.

"Bus." I told him.

"That's a long ride. You leaving tonight?" He asked, counting out some money onto a pile.

"Yes, sir," Johnny told him.

"You probably need your paycheck for the bus tickets, huh?"

"Yes, sir," I admitted, my ears kind of hot. We were asking for money even though we hadn't worked all week...it was a lot to ask for.

"Go ahead and take a loaf of bread and some lunch meat. A couple of sodas. I think there are some snack cakes that are going to expire in a few days. You two might as well take a box." He looked up, handing us both more than we'd earned in the last few days…he was paying us for the whole week. This, added to what we'd already saved up, was more than enough for the bus tickets we needed. We'd be able to buy some food on the way home if we wanted, and I could give Darry and Soda a little bit of money. Johnny could have some money to spend at home.

"Thank you, sir." I managed, clenching the money in my hands. "We…we really appreciate it." I blinked a few times, my eyes hot. "And, uh…you got a piece of paper?" He pushed one over to me and I wrote down our phone number and address. He put it in his desk drawer, locking it and putting the key back around his neck.

"I'll give you boys a call in a few days…make sure you got home alright. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" I nodded and he patted his desk, standing, and we stood too. "Michael." He reached out, and I shook his hand. "Patrick." Johnny shook it too. "Can I finally call you by your real names?" I blinked in surprise and Johnny gave me a sheepish smile.

"When you fell off the ladder…I kind of said your name." He shrugged.

"So you're…Ponyboy?" I nodded. "That's a heck of a name."

"My dad was real creative." I told him, shrugging with a grin. His smile was soft. "I got a brother named Sodapop." He snorted but just saying my brother's name hurt.

"And you?" He asked, looking at my friend.

"Johnny." He introduced himself.

"How'd you come up with the names?"

"My middle name is Michael," I explained. He turned to Johnny jerked his chin at me, making it apparent he wasn't gonna explain. I grinned a little. "My brother's middle name is Patrick," I told him, my ears kind of red. "It was the first thing I could think of."

Mr. Williams shook both of our hands again, reminding us that he'd be calling soon to make sure we got home okay and thanked us again for our hard work. It was hard to walk out of there. It was my first job…Johnny's too, and Mr. Williams had been the best boss we could have asked for. He'd let me keep my job even when I couldn't work because I was sick. I wished Sue and Marcus were there…the others too, so we could say goodbye. But we did ask Mr. Williams to tell them goodbye for us.

We grabbed the food he'd offered, not about to say no, and headed back to the apartment. I wondered out loud if he thought we ought to call Dally and tell him we were on our way. I figured James would once we told him…and if they hadn't arrested Robert yet…but they should have. Surely, by the time we got there, they would have arrested him. So there was no reason to hide out.

We decided to let James call him. We were both anxious to get home and we didn't want to waste time talking about it. We started stuffing our stuff into the duffle bag, putting the food and sodas in there too. I didn't have much of an appetite even though it was lunch time…I was too excited. Johnny insisted I eat something though, and as I was nibbling on a sandwich, James came through the door, taking a look at the bag on the couch and lifting an eyebrow.

"Hey, kids. What's going on?" I put the sandwich down, looking over at Johnny, but he was waiting for me.

"Um…we're going home," I explained.

He lifted the other eyebrow, taking a seat at the table where we were sitting, grabbing two slices of bread and a slice of bologna. "Home, huh? That such a good idea? You talked to Dallas?"

"I got a call from my foster sister. She went to the cops…told them…well, told them what he was like. They're gonna arrest him and his wife. So…it should be safe for us to go home." He seemed to take it in, staring down at the table and drumming his fingers.

"You sure it'll be safe? Think you better ask Dally?"

"I just want to go home," I told him quietly, my eyes hot as I stared at the table. "They're gonna arrest Richard and his wife and…and my brothers are talking to a cop who's gonna help us out…"

"I get it, kid." He told me quietly, making me look up. "Dallas will be there to look after you…your brothers too. Did your brother get custody of you?"

"Not yet," I muttered.

"You sure about this?"

"We're sure," Johnny told him. "We've been gone long enough." He nodded.

"You got enough money for the bus ticket?"

"Yeah, we've got enough." I patted my pocket, the sandwich half-eaten on my plate.

"Good. Your brothers know you're coming?"

"Nah. We wanted to surprise them." Johnny grinned and he chuckled.

"Yeah, they're gonna be surprised alright. You two sure about this?"

"We're sure." Beside me, Johnny nodded, nudging me and looking down at my sandwich. I sighed and took another bite.

"Alright. When are you leaving?"

"Soon as Pony eats.'" I rolled my eyes.

"Guess I'll walk you then."

Once I choked down the rest of the sandwich, I grabbed the duffle bag, throwing it over my shoulder, and we left James's apartment for the last time. James walked us to the bus stop, his hands shoved in his pockets. It was a long walk, but we passed the church where Johnny and I wouldn't go again and the gas station where I'd asked for directions. I wondered if the same guy was working…

When we reached the ticket counter, Johnny and I bought two tickets and waited on the bench for the bus to come, James standing beside us, smoking a cigarette. Johnny smoked one too, and I tried not to breathe in the smoke, not wanting to remember how much I was craving a cigarette. He was quiet up until the bus pulled in and people started boarding. Reaching out then and dropping his cigarette, James dropped a hand on my shoulder.

"You kids need anything, you call me, you hear?"

"Yeah, I dig." I told him, grinning and pulling myself to my feet.

He scratched his head, looking at the two of us, then sighing. "Guess I'm finally gonna get my living room back, huh?"

Johnny reached out, shaking his hand. "Thank you for letting us crash, man."

"Yeah, well…made things interesting, I guess." He shrugged. "Plus we get to rumble this weekend, so that'll be fun." We both laughed a little. "You two, take care of yourselves. If I ever find myself in Tulsa, I'll be knocking on your door."

"Sure thing, man."

People were boarding the bus, not many, but a few, and James took a step back. "See you around, kids." He waved, his other hand shoved into his pocket, and I put a hand on his arm on impulse.

"Thank you, James. Really. For everything. If it hadn't been for you…"

He shook me off, reaching out and ruffling my hair. His voice was gruff, but he was grinning a little. "Go on, kid, before you miss your bus."

Climbing aboard the bus, we took our seats in the back and looked out the window to find James rubbing at his eyes, crossing his arms and watching us. Johnny lifted a hand to wave and he rolled his eyes, waving a little and putting his hands back in his pockets. "Think he'll miss us?" I asked quietly.

Johnny snorted. "You know what? I think he just might."

 _ **Thank you for reading.**_


	41. Reunion

**_First I want to thank you all for your reviews. They all mean so much to me. This is a chapter I've had written for a while, and I know you have been waiting for a long time. So I truly hope you enjoy the new chapter. Also I wanted to give a special thank you to reviewer_** lilramona **_for a great idea they gave me. Thank you!_**

 _Reunion_

The bus ride was long. Long and boring and Johnny managed to fall asleep on my shoulder, but I stayed awake, staring out the window at night and watching the buildings go by. Everyone left us alone, and there were more guys in leather jackets and greasy hair than guys dressed like socs, so I wasn't too worried. There were a few girls on the bus too, and women with kids, all of them keeping their distance from us. I missed Sue already…she didn't treat us like hoods.

We kept our bags at our feet the whole time, the straps around our ankles to keep anyone from pulling it away. The first day we talked for a while, keeping our voices low so we wouldn't bother anyone. We talked about books we'd read and which ones were the best. We both liked Agatha Christie, but I liked the classics better, like John Steinbeck. He liked F Scott Fitzgerald, and we'd both read the Tolkien book I'd started with and thought it was pretty good. Surprisingly, he'd read a bunch of science fiction books that he really liked. He'd gotten part of the way through a book called _Dune_ but hadn't been able to finish it. I hadn't liked it much but he was into it. Maybe he'd be able to find it back home.

When we got bored with that, I pulled out my sketchpad and I flipped through the pictured I'd done when I'd first gotten to New York. Johnny had been real impressed, staring at the one of Soda for a long time, telling me how good it was, and my ears got red when I tried to take it away from him, muttering for him to quit. He laughed, crossing his arms. "What are you gonna draw now?" He asked. I shrugged, staring down at a blank page. "What about Sue?" He suggested.

"Um…sure." I shrugged, closing my eyes for a second and remembering how she'd looked outside the church the first day we'd really talked. In her church dress and white gloves, hair in braids, her smile when she'd invited me to stay after service for dinner. So I'd started to draw that. For almost an hour I'd done my best to draw on the bumpy bus ride, and he'd watched, apparently fascinated. "You wanna draw something?" I asked when I was tired of drawing.

He snorted. "Man, I can't draw nothing like you can."

I pushed the paper over at him, turning to a fresh page. "You can try." He grinned, then took the paper and pencil, drawing two horizontal lines, then two vertical ones. In one corner, he drew an X and I snorted, taking the pencil he handed me and drawing an O in another corner. So we passed about an hour that way, then he urged me to have a sandwich that I didn't feel like eating. I was too excited…and nervous. Still, I nibbled at it, not finishing it but doing my best.

I couldn't sleep at all. For a minute, I think I dozed against the window, but after a while I gave up. I kept jerking awake, finding Johnny on my shoulder, drooling a little. Snorting and letting it go, I just stared out the window. When we finally reached Tulsa, my heart was racing. Johnny nudged me, looking well rested even though it was almost midnight. I could practically feel the bags under my eyes, but I wasn't about to complain. I could sleep when I was in my own bed.

My legs were cramped from sitting for so long, and I stumbled a bit when we climbed off the bus, bag over my shoulder. As we stood on the platform and Johnny went into the bathroom, I glanced around, pulling the gun out of my bag and pushing it into my pocket. It was a long walk home…it was just in case. And when we got home, I'd give it back to Dally.

We headed home as soon as he was out of the bathroom, bags on our shoulders and hands in our pockets. Johnny made small talk as we walked, but all I could do was look around at all the places I'd missed so much. The movie house. The houses of greasers I only sort of knew but had still missed. A house Darry had roofed. The corner stores Dally had stolen from and the filling station…the DX. I stared at that for a long time, wishing he was there. It was where I'd called him.

By the time we reached the park, I was so nervous my hands were shaking. I wanted to see my brothers so bad…we were so close I wanted to break into a run. It was so close…my house was less than a mile away. Johnny was grinning real big and nudging me, and I laughed under my breath, nudging him back. "We're almost there." He told me, patting me on the back, and I chuckled, a noise that died in my throat as I turned to the park as we passed the path that would lead to the playground and the fountain.

There was a familiar truck parked on the street by the park and I froze in my tracks, my blood turning to ice. He was here…in our neighborhood…in _my_ neighborhood. He was in the park where I'd nearly died…the man who'd nearly killed me so many times. I touched my pocket, the gun heavy and cold there. I'd never really carried a gun before, except when our dad had taken us hunting, and those hadn't been revolvers. Those hadn't fitted in my pocket, hidden under my t-shirt.

Darry and Soda would be upset if they knew I was carrying it around town. Sure, Darry had wanted me to carry a blade in case I needed to protect myself, but this was something a real hood did…and he didn't want me to be a real hood. Hell, I didn't want to be one either. Guns got you killed around here, either by other guys with guns or by the fuzz. I'd wanted to give it back to Dallas, but suddenly another thought came to me. I could end this. Right now.

Beside me, Johnny had frozen, staring at me in confusion. We were almost home…I just wanted to walk through my own front door…see the looks on my brothers' faces as I stepped into the house for the first time in nearly a year. I was so tired…I'd barely slept at all on the bus, so I would walk in the door, see my brothers, and somehow fall asleep. I was running on the sodas Mr. Williams had given us and adrenaline, and I wasn't sure how long that would last. But his truck was parked on the street and I couldn't move. He was here.

"Pone?" Johnny asked. There was no one else around. At just past midnight , the streets were just about deserted.

"That's his truck." I told Johnny, my voice dying in my throat.

"What?"

"His truck." I pointed and Johnny started shaking his head. There was s silhouette of a naked woman sitting upright in the back window, her head thrown back, and it reminded me of James's tattoo. Hanging from the rearview mirror was a beaded necklace and I was sure the floor was littered with beer bottles. "Go to my house. Get the guys." I ordered, taking a step away from it.

"I ain't gonna…" Suddenly someone was screaming, and I felt bile rise in my throat. I was running then, full out toward the familiar voice, almost forgetting about Johnny who chased after me.

"Get the guys, now!" I ordered over my shoulder, and Johnny faltered, then ran in the opposite direction toward my house. I knew that scream. I'd heard it too many times…my feet barely touched the ground as I sprinted toward the fountain where the lights shone down on a girl beating on a man, her fists useless against her chest as he held her hair in his fist.

"I already told them! I told them everything!" She was screaming, lashing out with her feet and missing. He danced around her easily, pulling her back toward the road where his car was parked. I knew what he was going to do…the same thing he'd done to Lianne. But he wasn't gonna get her into that truck.

He didn't even seem me coming. I tackled him, taking Rita with us, but he was so surprised that he let her go, and she scrambled backwards, gasping and using the fountain to pull herself to her feet. I cocked my fist back and hit him in the face as hard as I could, then again, getting his eye this time. He managed to hit me in the arm, squirming under me, but I sat on his stomach, punching him over and over until he caught my fist in his hand, shoving me back and throwing me onto the ground. Before I could get up, he was sitting on me, our positions reversed. My nose exploded in pain, then my eye, but I managed to grab his shirt, pulling him close and slamming my head against his.

We both groaned, him rolling off of me and holding his head. I touched my nose gingerly, feeling it shift between my fingers and moaning. He'd already broken my nose once, back a few weeks after I'd moved into his house, but this hurt worse. My eyes watered and I wiped at them, not wanting him to think I was crying. He didn't deserve that kind of satisfaction.

Suddenly there was yelling and running feet and I pushed myself up then, hurrying to my feet. Had someone seen what was going on? Or were they his friends, ready to gang up on me and kill me like they'd killed Lianne? I heard something click, then, and glanced down to find a blade in his hand. Richard swung and I jumped back, stumbling as I reached into my pocket. The group of people running toward me froze at the edge of the circle of light as I pulled the gun out of my pocket.

I pointed the gun at his forehead, the barrel right up against his skin, and everything went quiet. I nodded at his hand that still held the knife and he dropped it. I reached out with a foot, sliding it away from us and followed it with my eyes as it came to rest a few feet away from the people in the park with us. It couldn't have been his friends…they would have already shot me.

Rita stood behind me, breathing hard and shaky, and I heard her take a few steps back. Good. She shouldn't be close to this guy. I wanted to tell her to run but I didn't dare look away. Richard stared up at me, eyes wide and dumb, and I felt my hands stop shaking for the first time in what felt like months. It would feel so good to end his life. To know that he'd never hurt another person. My eyes got hot as I glared at him.

I glanced to the side and felt like throwing up. It was Darry I saw first…I could barely see him, but his eyes were huge. Sodapop was beside him, then I think it was Steve right behind him. I was sure the others were there. They had to be…but I didn't want to look over at them long enough to take attendance. Johnny had been fast. Richard was on his knees in front of me and I could end all of this…no more problems with the state or social workers…he'd be gone. Of course, it wasn't that simple. If I killed him there would be a price to pay.

My brothers were so close…they were right there! With everything Rita had told me…told the cops…everything had to be okay now. Right? The state would believe her and arrest Richard. But…he was here. In the park by my house. Why hadn't they arrested him? Didn't they believe her? Would I have to live with him again? I couldn't…he'd kill me. Unless I took care of it first.

Tires squealed and a car door slammed, the sound of running feet toward me. How many people were going to show up? "Put the gun down!" I figured it was a cop. Blue lights flashed at the corner of my vision, but I kept my eyes on Richard. "Young man…put it down." Which cop was it? The one my brothers trusted, or one of Richard's? "Ponyboy Curtis?" The cop asked then, his voice a little softer. My brothers were still dead silent. Were they surprised to see me? Horrified to find me pointing a gun at a man's head? Maybe both. Or maybe they didn't even recognize me.

"Yeah." I told him. I guess they really hadn't recognized me, because when I spoke, Soda let out a sob. From the corner of my eye I saw someone move forward…I guess someone held him back, though, because he didn't get any closer.

"Pony?" I heard Darry ask like he didn't quite believe it. I guess I really did look different. The light above my head was bright, but beyond the circle, I could barely see anything...just vague shadows in the darkness. It didn't help that I refused to turn my head…to let Richard get the jump on me. Instead of answering, I nodded.

"Ponyboy, put the gun down." The cop ordered. "My name is Officer Charlton. I've been trying to help your brothers. Your foster sister has given her statement, and this man is under arrest. We've been looking for him for the last two days…ever since your foster sister gave her testimony."

"It's not enough." I kept my eyes on Richard's. His eyes never strayed from mine, and for once, it didn't hurt to keep eye contact with him. He couldn't hurt me now. "Not after everything he did, it's not enough."

"C'mon, Ponyboy, put the gun down." That was Darry, his voice weak, not commanding like I'd thought it would be. I gripped it even tighter, hating the tears that filled my eyes. It was the first time I'd heard his voice in person in…a year? Almost. I'd never heard him sound like that before…so absolutely terrified and small. Still, I spoke right to Richard.

"You don't deserve to live. You know that? Do you know what you did to me!? To all of us?" My voice was too loud…bordering on hysterical, and I didn't want to be hysterical. I wanted to be cool like Dally when I looked this man in the eye and ended him. I wanted him to be scared of me like I'd been of him. "You killed her. You…all of you…"

"Ponyboy, put it down!" The cop ordered again, and I glanced up. He was short and kind of pudgy, moving forward until he was standing right at the edge of the circle of light…made me think of the oatmeal guy. The oatmeal guy was pointing a gun at me.

"You deserve to die." I told Richard, ignoring the cop. I had so much I wanted to say to him…so many accusations. "She was only thirteen and you…you raped her and killed her." My voice broke and I fought to blink back the tears, the gun still steady.

The cop spoke again, gentle and friendly. "Son, I'm going to take him into custody. He's under arrest. He's going to prison for a long time. He'll never hurt another kid." Richard just stared at me thought his one good eye, the other one swelling so fast I could watch, hatred and mild worry mingled. Did he think I wouldn't do it? My finger touched the trigger and I heard the cop's gun click…he was ready to shoot too. "Ponyboy Curtis, put it down!" He barked, sounding less like a friend and more like a cop now.

There was movement beside me and a hand landed on my shoulder. "Dallas…" the cop warned. Dally ignored him. I just stood there, not willing to let the gun drop. He finally couldn't hurt me. I could stare him right in the face…light a cigarette if I wanted, and he couldn't hurt me. Hell, I could put it out on his arm, let him see how bad it hurt. The thought of lighting a cigarette made me wanna be sick and I felt another wave of hatred. His fault...all of it was his fault.

"Alright, kiddo. Give it here." Dal shook my shoulder a little, not sounding concerned, just firm.

"He deserves to die, Dally." I told him.

Dal snorted. "Yeah…yeah he does."

"He raped them…both of them." I made myself say it, my voice shaking as my eyes got hot. Behind me, Rita sobbed softly, and I knew she was hiding her face in her hands. They'd lived through it…the least I could do was say it. "She was only thirteen." It didn't matter if he knew anymore…Rita had already told them everything. "I tried to stop him." I felt like I had to explain myself…Dally wouldn't have let that man hurt him. No way. "I tried, Dal." I told him, my voice breaking.

"I know you did." He squeezed my shoulder, comforting. "Shit, kid, you're a lot braver than I am." That stopped me cold, and I tore my eyes away from Richard to look up at Dally. With him so close, I didn't have to be afraid of Richard. "No way I'd take a beating like that every night to help someone I barely knew." He patted my shoulder. "And yeah, he deserves to die about as much as anyone I've ever met, but _you_ sure don't. If you act like you're gonna squeeze that trigger, our friendly officer of the law over there's gonna shoot you, savvy? And after all the shit your brothers have been through…hell, that all of us have been through, you think we deserve to see that too?"

"No." I murmured, looking back down at Richard, my hands starting to shake again. I felt light headed…I was home. I was finally back home. My brothers were less than a hundred feet away.

"Good. I really don't want your blood all over me, kid. I'd probably never get it out of the leather." I grinned up at him, taking my eyes off Richard for just a second. Dal wouldn't let him do nothing. "As good as it probably feels to point a gun at this sorry asshole, it's time to put it down. So hand it over, okay? And try not to shoot me with it." I felt hot water drip down my face and realized I must be crying. "C'mon." He squeezed my shoulder again then patted me on the back. "Hurry up, kiddo. I've got places to be." I snorted then, lowering the gun and putting it in his hand, and he immediately put it on the ground, kicking it toward the cop.

"There you go, officer. We're unarmed again. Go ahead and take this sorry piece of shit away." He pulled me backwards by my shirt, away from Richard, and toward my brothers and the other guys who had yet to move. Probably Two-Bit and Steve but I couldn't see. Johnny too…Johnny and I were home. I watched the cop grab Richard and put him in handcuffs and thought I might fall over in relief. Then suddenly, someone was holding me so tight I couldn't breathe, but it didn't matter. I didn't need to breathe.

The last time I'd seen Darry, he'd promised to get me back. He'd wrapped his arms around me and rocked me back and forth, promising he wouldn't let this happen. Now I gripped his shirt so hard I thought it might rip, hiding my face in his shoulder and crying so I could hardly stand, his arms holding me up. I was home. I was with my family again…it didn't seem real. But his arms around me were real. Nothing had ever been so real.

He pulled back after a long time, his hands cupping my face as he looked at me so close it was like he was trying to memorize me by the street light above our heads. One hand moved to my hair, smoothing it back and probably taking in the new color. I'd half forgotten that I'd even dyed it; I so rarely looked in a mirror. His thumb traced the scar then, going from right beside my eye down my cheek to my mouth. I hated it…it made me look tough and mean, sure…but it also reminded me of a thirteen year old girl with a hand over her mouth, screaming behind a bar. He glanced down at my arms then, but didn't pull the sleeves back, just looked back up at my face. He was crying…I hadn't seen my big brother cry since…before our parents died, I guess.

At some point, Soda got a hold of me, his face in my shoulder, and I was crying again, holding him so tight I doubted he could breathe while Darry kept his hands on our shoulders like he didn't want to let me go. Soda, too, pulled away, his eyes tracing the scar and taking in my hair. "You got tall." He choked out at one point, laughing a little through his tears, and I realized we were eye to eye now…heck, I was almost a little taller than him. Darry pulled us both close again, and for so long I lost track of time he just held us, his head on mine, and I felt him crying through his chest.

Beside us, I was vaguely aware of Johnny getting hugs and pats on the back from the gang. I wanted to say hello to them…I wanted to thank them for everything. But glory, I'd missed my brothers more than anything in the world. Soda was gripping my shirt, still crying, and I was too. Darry probably was too…I couldn't manage to look up at him. Instead I stayed where I was, gripping him as tight as he was holding me, the three of us in a tight circle in the middle of the park, right by the fountain where this had all started.

"Come on, guys…let us see the kid." Two-Bit urged, and I felt him reach out and grab my shoulder. Soda laughed, letting me go but keeping a hold of my shirt while Two-Bit hugged me, lifting me up and spinning me around, making Soda let go. "Hey Ponyboy!" He dropped me back down and I grabbed him to keep my balance, laughing and feeling so tired…I was dizzy with it. I felt like I hadn't slept in days, which I guess I hadn't really.

"Hi, Two-Bit." I grinned, gripping his arms, and he steadied me.

"Was starting to wonder if you were ever coming back."

"Me too." I admitted. He put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing.

"Glory, kid, it is so good to see you." He reached up, ruffling my hair. "Now what the hell did you do to your tuff hair?" Soda snorted, patting me on the back.

"Tell me about it…I didn't even recognize you at first." My brother laughed.

"That was kind of the point." I admitted, and they both sobered up. Steve managed to elbow Two-Bit aside and I crossed my arms, grinning at him…we were almost the same height now. "Did you miss me?"

"Shoot, Ponyboy." He sighed, reaching out and grabbing me in a bear hug. I hugged him back tight, kind of surprised, but grateful. I'd missed Steve. He was Soda's best friend and we'd grown up together and he was practically family. He smelled like oil and I swear it was the best thing I'd smelled in a year, my face in his shoulder. "Yeah, I missed you." He patted me on the back, then held me at arm's length. "Soda's right…you did get tall. Think you can fix the hair?" He asked, running a hand roughly through it, and I laughed, batting him away.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Guess I could shave it and start over."

He snorted. "Nah, don't do that. You'll look even more ridiculous."

"He looks tuff." Soda defended me, throwing an arm around my shoulders and squeezing. Beside us, Dally had an arm around Johnny's neck.

"Not the word I'd go with." He put in, grinning at me. "You guys wanna move this inside?"

"Good idea." Darry put a hand on the back of my head, pulling me closer and hugging me to his side. "Come on, Pony. Let's get you home."

"Hang on a sec." I told him, turning away from the guys to find Rita standing at the edge of the group, her arms crossed tight over her chest. She smiled when she made eye contact, and met me halfway when I hurried toward her, her arms thrown around me. She'd never hugged me before. Never touched me at all, except when she was patching me up after Richard about killed me a couple of times. I hugged her back, surprised to find that I was a little taller than her now.

"I never thanked you." She whispered, her chin on my shoulder, and I pulled away when she finally did, grinning at her. Glory I was glad she was okay, despite a fading black eye. The guys and my brothers were a little ways away, giving us space, and I didn't think they could hear. Still, I kept my voice low.

"You didn't have to."

"I still should have. You let him hurt you so he couldn't hurt me and…"

"Don't worry about it." I told her, uncomfortable. "It's all over now. Right?" She nodded, the smile sad and painful.

"Yeah. I think so."

She seemed to swim before my eyes and I gripped her arms, stumbling a little, and immediately someone was behind me, holding me up. "Ponyboy? What's the matter?" Sodapop asked, sounding panicked, and I let Rita go, murmuring an apology to her. She nodded, stepping back.

"Nothing…just awful tired. Couldn't sleep on that stupid bus." I grumbled, rubbing my eyes.

"Yeah? When's the last time you got any sleep, kiddo?" I thought back to the nights before leaving…the nightmares and the crying and the books I'd half read to pass the time.

"Honestly? No idea." I admitted with a half smile, and he slung an arm around me.

"Let's get you in bed, huh, Pone? You okay to walk?"

"Yeah, sure." I assured him, leaning on him a little as we all made our way home. I was finally going home. Too bad I felt like I was about to fall over. But I had my brothers with me...that was all that mattered.

 _ **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! :)**_


	42. Home

_**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I appreciate it so much :) I think there will probably be about 4ish more chapters...I'm not good at estimating these things. I hope you enjoy the new chapter!**_

Home

Ponyboy was half asleep as I led him back to the house, Darry on his other side, every one of us watching him like a bunch of hawks. My little brother had dark circles under his eyes that were practically purple, and his eyes wouldn't hardly stay open. There were more differences too…his face looked almost hollow, his cheeks sharp and hungry looking. He was so thin…his jeans hung off of him, and his shirt was way too big…the sleeves went all the way to his knuckles but I didn't dare pull them up. He wouldn't want me to. Not yet. We'd talk about that later…his back too. But not yet. Now, he needed rest. I caught Darry giving him worried looks too, but he just lead the way back to our house.

Rita had pulled Two-Bit aside as we'd been on our way out of the park, whispering something I couldn't hear, and he'd nodded, talking to her real quiet before waving as she'd broken away from the rest of us. "Where's she going?" Steve had wondered, and I'd glanced back from where I'd had my arm around Pony. My little brother had been nodding off, but he'd woken up for that, turning to Two-Bit who had grinned easily at us.

"She's staying at my place tonight. My mom's in bed, but Susie should be up. They ought to be fine but they both have the house number if they need it."

When we finally got inside, Darry threw an arm around Pony, squeezing him carefully. "Why don't you go ahead and go to bed, kiddo?" He asked, and Pony started to shake his head and argue, but he yawned before he could get the words out and I chuckled.

"Go ahead, Pone. We can all catch up in the morning." I hated saying it…I wanted Pony to tell me everything now. But he was too tired to even stand upon his own, and he looked awful to tell the truth.

"Yeah, alright." Ponyboy yawned again, letting our brother lead him to the bedroom we shared. He was in there for a few minutes while we all stood around like we were stuck. It was awful to have Pony out of my sight, which was ridiculous…he was just in the other room. When Darry came back out of the room, he shut the door behind him real soft.

"He been eating at all, Johnny?" Darry asked, sounding almost defeated, and I flinched. So he'd noticed too.

"About as much as he's been sleeping." Johnny admitted, and Two-Bit patted his shoulder.

"He'll be alright now." Our friend reassured us all. But he was looking after Pony with serious, worried eyes, his jaw tight.

"It ain't even over yet." Darry reminded all of us softly, running his hands through his hair. "I still don't have custody."

"You don't think they'll take him away again, do you?" Johnny asked, looking scared, and my stomach jumped up into my throat.

"The cop said he was gonna do everything he could to make sure that didn't happen but…it's possible." Darry admitted, sitting down hard in his recliner. We all followed suit, me fighting the urge to go to Ponyboy's side. He needed rest awful bad. I'd join him in a minute.

"You saw him Dar." I murmured, hoping Ponyboy was sound enough asleep that he wouldn't hear. "I don't know if he'll be able to cope if they take him again. Hell, he's barely coping now." My brother nodded while Steve patted me on the back.

"Hey, the kid's gonna be just fine. They arrested that asshole and they're gonna arrest the social worker too." My buddy told me.

"But if the State comes back and says Darry still ain't his guardian…"

"Officer Charlton's gonna get me a meeting with the State…he'll be there too." Darry reminded me, obviously putting a lot of work into looking hopeful. "There should be a hearing soon…"

"And in the meantime?" He shrugged.

"Officer Charlton knows that Ponyboy's with us. If they were going to take him away…wouldn't they have already done it?" He sighed when I didn't answer. "I'm gonna call in the morning. It's too late right now."

"Do you think he needs a doctor or something?" I asked then, my voice small. "I mean…after everything that happened and…you know…with how thin he is?"  
Darry dropped his head into his hands, looking overwhelmed for a minute, but it was Dally who answered. "The kid's okay. Just needs to eat more. Worry about making sure he gets to stay for now." He told Darry. My brother grinned at him a little, nodding.

"Yeah…sounds good." It was almost one in the morning and his eyes were drooping. "I think I'm gonna go to bed, guys. You staying?" He asked, looking at the guys.

"I'm gonna head home tonight." Steve told us. "Soda, I'll pick you up for work tomorrow?" He confirmed, and I nodded. I didn't want to go to work, but I doubted my boss was gonna give me a day off.

"Same here." Dally stood too, glancing down at Johnny who jumped to his feet.

"Yeah. I'd better get home."

"You sure, Johnnycakes?" I asked, realizing we hadn't thanked him. Darry was so tired he looked like he was about to fall down, and my mind was on Ponyboy, but still, I wanted to make sure he'd be okay.

"Yeah. I figure I might as well. I might come by tomorrow if that's okay, though." Darry nodded, standing and reaching out to Johnny, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Sure it's alright, kiddo." He ruffled his hair. "I can't thank you enough, Johnnycakes." He told our friend quietly, and Johnny grinned.

"Wasn't nothing. It was kind of fun, actually." Darry snorted, pulling him in a one-sided hug.

"Be careful going home, alright? And come back if you need to."

"Sure, Darry."

Dally threw an arm around Johnny, leading him out the door, and it was only us and Two-Bit. "Mind if I stay? Rita might be sleeping in my bed."

"Hope you changed the sheets recently." I quipped, and Darry laughed on his way to his room. Two-Bit rolled his eyes but grinned.

"She'll be fine. Susie changed all the beds yesterday, thank you very much." I laughed, pulling myself to my feet, but Two-Bit stopped me. "He looks pretty rough, huh?"

I swallowed hard, nodding, all humor forgotten. "Yeah…"

"Glory…it ain't right. He'd just a kid." Two-Bit sighed, forcing a smile. "He'll be okay, though. You know? He's one of the toughest kids I know." I thought back to the scene in the park…how I hadn't even recognized the blond kid holding a gun to Richard's forehead.

"Where the hell did he get a gun, that's what I wanna know."

Two shrugged. "No idea…I thought he was gonna do it, though." For a moment, I had too, and that thought made my blood run cold. If Dally hadn't stopped him…would he have? He caught my look and lay back on the couch, trying to smile. "Go to bed, man. He's gonna be fine." I nodded, waving and calling out a goodnight, then slipped into the bedroom I'd had to myself for almost a year now.

Pony was curled up on his side on the very edge of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, knees almost touching his elbows. The blanket was haphazardly thrown over him, like he'd been to tired to even try and get it over him, and I uncovered him, straightening it out and then covering him up. He was tense, even in sleep, and I crawled into bed next to him, laying on my pillow and staring at his back in the dark. His hair was so light it almost seemed to glow in the dark. I fought the urge to reach out and touch him…I didn't want to startle him or wake him up. He was as tall as me now, but he was still so small. Glory…how had he gotten so small?

Closing my eyes, I tried to fall asleep on my own side of the bed, and I was almost there when he started shaking, a soft noise waking me up. Sitting up on my elbow, I stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on. He wasn't screaming…those nightmares always woke the whole house. Instead, he was whimpering into his pillow, tears dripping down his face as he curled up even tighter.

"Hey…Pony?" I asked, putting a hand on his shoulder slowly so he wouldn't get scared. "Ponyboy?" He kept crying, hiding his face in his pillow, but he was still asleep. I clenched my jaw…he was scared to make noise. I remembered what Mark and Tyler had told us…how the man had taken it out on Pony when he'd woken him up at night. Squeezing his shoulder, I scooted closer, my forehead against his head. "Honey, wake up." I urged, shaking him. "Come on, Pony. It's alright. Wake up." He muttered beside me and I shook him until his whole body went stiff and he jerked away, sitting up, eyes wide as he stared at the wall right in front of him. "Ponyboy? Hey…what's wrong?" I asked, sitting up too, even though I was so tired I didn't know if I could keep my eyes open much longer.

"Soda?" He asked, his voice so young and scared that I was almost immediately awake.

"Yeah, honey. It's me. You're home." I assured him, putting an arm around his shoulder. "They arrested Richard and a bunch of his buddies…you're safe, okay?" He was still crying, but he nodded, and I pulled him back down on the bed, both of us laying down on the pillows. He curled up against me, his head under my chin, and I rubbed his back. "It's okay," I assured him. "I'm right here, Pony. Darry's in his room. Two-Bit's on the couch. Ain't nothing gonna happen to you here." He nodded against my chest, and after a few minutes, he was asleep again. I followed suit after another few minutes, sure he was gonna sleep better now. And he did.

I woke up to an empty bed when my alarm went off and my heart stopped. Had I dreamed it? Was he still gone? Glory it hurt so bad for a second my eyes watered. Then I made myself stop. It hadn't been a dream. The bed beside me was still warm. I jumped up, throwing the covers back, and headed into he kitchen. It was empty. The living room too, except for Two-Bit who was still asleep. Then I looked at the porch and my breath escaped in a sigh of relief. He was leaning against the porch railing, his back to me, the sun rising and shining on his blond hair. My chest got real tight and I wiped at my eyes, heading out to the porch. I tried to be quiet when I opened the door but he jumped a little, and when he first whipped around, he was scared. I hated it. In that moment, I could have found Richard and that gun and finished him.

"Hey, kiddo." I joined him, leaning my elbows on the porch rail, our shoulders touching, and he relaxed a little. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Just woke up a few minutes ago. Longest I've slept in a while." I nodded.

"Want a cigarette? I think Two-Bit has a pack in his pocket. Bet I could lift you one." He shook his head, eyes going dull. His eyes went down to his arms, which were resting on the porch rail, the long sleeves almost covering his hands that stuck straight out.

"I can't." He admitted softly, jaw getting real tight. I felt my stomach flip over.

"Yeah?" I asked, reaching out and touching his shoulder. He just shook his head.

"Not anymore." He snorted, not looking amused at all. "One thing about Richard…his methods were effective." His voice broke at the end and I put an arm around him, pulling him close, and he shook in my arms.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." I whispered, his head pressed against my shoulder. "Glory…I'm sorry." He just shook his head, pulling away and looking tired again.

"Don't matter…it was a bad habit anyway." He didn't want to talk about it anymore, and I ruffled his hair. I knew he wouldn't want to answer my next question, but I had to ask it.

"Can I see?" He just looked at me, startled, and I kept my hand on his shoulder. I was certain he would say no. Heck, maybe I wanted him to say no. He nodded a little though, reaching down with shaking hands and grasping the edge of his sleeve. "You don't have to if you don't wanna." I tried to assure him, not sure if I was ready to see. He didn't acknowledge me, just pulled back one sleeve, then the other, revealing long haphazard rows of round scars that ran from his wrist to his elbow. None of them were fresh…he'd been away from Richard for too long, and I figured they didn't hurt, but I was still extra careful when I reached out and ran a finger lightly over one of them, flinching as I did so. There were so many…more than I could count at a glace.

The screen door opened then, but instead of jerking away, Pony just stood still, shaky like some kind of wild animal, but he let us get close. It showed how much he trusted us, I guess, and I was grateful, but it still hurt to see him so scared. Darry approached slowly, and I glanced up at Ponyboy's face, feeling my heart drop. His eyes were dull again, far away and nonresponsive. He didn't even glance at our brother when Darry took one of his arms, his thumb rubbing carefully back and forth around a scar on his wrist. Darry whispered a curse, then looked up at Pony, cupping the back of his neck. "Kiddo? Hey, Pony?" He spoke urgently, looking kind of scared, dropping his arm. "Ponyboy."

Our brother seemed to jerk awake then, meeting our eyes with his wide, surprised ones. "Huh?"

"You okay?" Darry asked, and I dropped my hand from his arms too.

"Yeah." Pony yanked the sleeves back down and Darry let him, forcing a neutral look onto his face.

"I'm gonna make breakfast, alright?" He asked, putting his hand on Pony's shoulder, squeezing.

"I can do it." Pony was trying; I'd give him that. "I was up first."

"Nah, kiddo. I've got it. Are eggs okay?"

Our brother gave in, nodding. "Sure, Dar."

"Alright." He gave me a look, then headed back inside, leaving me and Pony on the porch.

"You gotta work today?" Ponyboy asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah, kiddo. Until four. Darry's off though." I remembered the cop and the State, debated about telling him, then decided it would be a bad idea not to. "He's gonna try and get a meeting with the State…I think he might be meeting with that cop too." Pony was silent, staring straight ahead. "It's gonna be fine, Pone."

"What if they don't let me stay?" He asked, his voice too small. I put an arm around his shoulders, squeezing hard, and he leaned against me.

I wanted to tell him that they weren't gonna take him away. I wanted to tell him that I wouldn't let them. But I didn't know that. I couldn't promise him that. And what if they put him with someone bad again? I shook my head, squeezing again. "Darry is going to do everything he can to make sure that doesn't happen. So am I. If you wanna run away again, though, you're taking me with you." He snorted but I shook my head, shaking him a little. "I mean it, kiddo. I can't do this again." I leaned my cheek on his blond hair. "Whatever happens, you can't give up, okay Pony?" He hummed in agreement. "You look like you're starving to death, honey. How are you feeling?"

He started to lie but I gave him a look. Sighing, he shrugged. "Tired. Just…real tired." He didn't say anything else, so I just sat down, pulling him down to join me. Leaning his head on my shoulder, we sat together, watching the sun come up, my hand rubbing up and down his arm. "I missed you so much, Soda." He murmured.

"Glory, I missed you too." I put both my arms around him again, wondering how I was gonna focus on work, knowing he was finally back home. "Where were you?" I asked suddenly, realizing I still didn't know. There was so much I wanted to talk with him about. We had a lot of catching up to do. But getting the full story out of his was going to e

"With a buddy of Dally's in New York."

I made myself smile, sitting up and grinning at him. "New York, huh…how was that?" He shrugged.

"Uh…loud. Busy."

"Yeah? Anybody bug ya?"

"A group of guys jumped us a couple of times." He shrugged, ignoring my incredulous look. He hadn't mentioned that on the phone. "James and some other guys took care of it, though."

"They hurt you?" I demanded. He shrugged again. "C'mon, kiddo. Talk to me."

"They got Johnny worse than me." He told me, although I wasn't sure if I believed him. I'd have to ask Johnny. "It wasn't all bad." He admitted, grinning just a little. "James was usually pretty nice, and work wasn't bad. Our boss, Mr. Williams, was real nice. Paid us even when we had to take time off. And his daughter was nice too."

"His daughter, huh?" I asked, grinning for real and laughing when his ears got red, his head ducking down. "How nice?"

"Quit." He muttered, nudging me.

"C'mon! I wanna hear about her! What was her name?"

"Sue."

"Yeah? Was she pretty?"

"Yeah. She was real pretty." He tried to meet my eyes and failed, and I didn't know if it was because he was embarrassed or…something else. I ignored that, punching his shoulder. He laughed, rubbing the spot where I'd hit him.

"Maybe we can all take a road trip…go see her. Huh?" He laughed again, less amused now.

"We could never afford it. Bus tickets are expensive."

"We'll save up." I waved him off. "Besides, I wanna meet this James guy…thank him for letting you and Johnny crash with him."

"That'd be fun." He gave in with a small smile, obviously indulging me. We both knew it was a pretty far-fetched dream, but it was a fun one at least.

Darry called us in for breakfast and I jumped up, holding out a hand and pulling my little brother up. I was already dreading work…he'd be with Darry, and Darry would look after him, but I wanted to be at home with him. I wanted him to talk to me about what he'd been through…I wanted him to feel safe again.

He followed me into the kitchen, Two-Bit at the table and waiting for his breakfast. Pony grinned at him, looking exhausted as he dropped into a chair. I sat beside him, patting him on the back as Darry put a plate of eggs in front of him. "How you feeling, kiddo?" Two asked as Darry sat down with his own plate.

"I'm alright." Pony told him, picking up his fork and picking at his food.

"You sure?" He asked, quiet, and Pony nodded.

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna call Officer Charlton today." Darry told us in between bites, his eyes on Ponyboy who still hadn't taken a bite despite all his playing with his eggs. Pony must have seen me watching him and took a bite, chewing slowly and swallowing. He took a drink of the milk, watching Darry. "He might come over...you think you could talk to him?" Ponyboy hesitated, his eyes seeking mine, then he nodded.

"Sure." He muttered.

"You don't have to." Darry assured him. "If you ain't up to it…that's fine. We can always put it off for a few days."

"Is he gonna make me leave?" Ponyboy asked, staring at his plate listlessly.

Darry stared at him for a minute, his eyes darting to mine, worried. "I don't know, honey." He admitted, reaching out and putting a hand on our brother's arm. "But Officer Charlton promised to help us. He's gonna try to make sure no one takes you. Or…if you gotta go, it won't be for long." Pony visibly flinched at that, and Two-Bit brought a hand up and ruffled Ponyboy's hair.

"It's gonna be fine, Pony." He assured him. "That cop's gonna get all this straightened out. Besides, they arrested that guy and his wife…the social worker too. You'll get a new one and everything…that guy ain't gonna get anywhere near you again."

Pony nodded, forcing a grin and shaking Two-Bit's hand off. He took a few bites of his eggs, all of us eating in silence until there was honking outside. I sighed, dropping my plate in the sink and stopped by Pony's chair, ruffling his hair and throwing an arm around him. "I'll be home later, kiddo." I told him quietly, hugging him tight and praying that he'd still be here when I got home…that no one would take him away from us. "Love you." I murmured, then headed out to ride with Steve to work.

"How's the kid?" He asked as I slammed the door.

"He's gonna be okay," I told him, grinning a little, already counting the minutes until I could get back to him.

 _ **Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked the new chapter :)**_


	43. Officer Charlton

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and read my story! I appreciate all of you so much. Sorry for the wait for this chapter...it's been a busy day! Hope you enjoy the new chapter :)**

 _Officer Charlton_

We'd been in the living room, Soda, Dallas, and Steve at a card game and Two-Bit flipping through part of my newspaper. Two-Bit's mom and Susie had both been at home, and with Richard missing, I knew he was kind of worried about them, but Tim was keeping an eye on our house, and I figured he'd be heading home soon. Rita had spent a lot of the previous days with us…well, she'd slept in our spare room. During the day, I had no idea what she got up to. She'd declined breakfast, not getting close to any of us or having much in the way of conversation with us. She was friendly enough, though, smiling when she met our eyes and thanking us whenever we offered anything. I knew she didn't much trust us, though. That was fine…she'd figure out we weren't gonna hurt her soon enough. I knew she only stayed around because we were Ponyboy's brothers, and she trusted Ponyboy.

The day we'd called Officer Charlton to come to the house, Sodapop had gotten her a glass of water, and she'd smiled up at us, tired eyes in a bruised face. "I asked him why he did it." We'd both started a little, me hanging up the phone after Officer Charlton promised he'd be there in less than half an hour. "I talked to him a few days ago. It was his fault, you know? I told him that…maybe I shouldn't have." She'd shrugged, looking sad. "He put himself in Richard's way. If he'd have left it alone, Richard would have ignored him. So I asked him why he'd done it. Know what he said?" Soda had shaken his head, glancing over at the guys who'd sat on the floor. "He said 'because it's what my big brothers would have done.'"

I'd had to fight awful hard not to start bawling right there. Glory we were lucky to have that kid. I'd wanted to put my arms around him and tell him how lucky we were…to tell him how proud I was of him. I hadn't liked her telling him that it was his fault…heaven knew my brother probably felt guilty about enough about everything as it was. It was just like him to feel bad about things that weren't his fault. But Ponyboy had stood up to that man every night because he knew it was what me and Soda would have done. Across from me, Soda had sat down hard, hand against his mouth, and hadn't said much else until Officer Charlton had showed up.

But on the night Ponyboy had come back, Rita had been out somewhere. I assumed she had a friend or something in the area, because she was gone a lot. Our house had practically turned into a hotel, but I didn't mind much. She and Susie were welcome here, as long as we could protect them. I knew Susie felt safer here than at home, and even here she tended to stay away from the windows. She acted real tough around us, but she was just a kid and those men had scared her pretty bad. Her mom had been freaked after finding out what had happened and Two-Bit had pulled me aside, telling me that she was thinking about cutting back on her job to spend more time at home. Two-Bit had been worried they wouldn't be able to afford the bills if she did that, so instead of telling him to get a job to help out like I'd been sorely tempted to do, I'd phoned his mom.

His mom felt real bad, I knew, and had told me again and again that she was doing her best, like she had to answer to me or something. I sure wasn't gonna judge her, or tell her she ought to spend more time at home when she was paying the bills on her own. I knew a little bit of how hard it was. "You ain't gotta worry about Susie." I'd told her. "She can stay with us whenever you need to work late. She's been going to work with Soda or hanging around with Dally. We'll look after her." And then she'd thanked me over and over, telling me how much she appreciated it. She'd been friends with my mom, so I didn't mind helping her out. Besides, Susie deserved to be looked after.

All of us gathered in the living room, I'd been wondering when they were going to catch Richard, and when we were going to get to tell Ponyboy he could come home. It felt like I hadn't seen him in years, but it still didn't seem real that he'd really get to come home soon. Then the front door had been thrown open, and for a moment, I'd been afraid that Richard was gonna try and attack us or something. Of course, there were five of us, and I had a gun close by, but still…I didn't want to get involved in something like that. But it hadn't been Richard…it had been Johnny Cade.

We'd all stood, eyes wide, too shocked to say anything, but he was talking before we even got the chance. "You gotta come. Pony…Richard in the park…hurry!" And then he'd been running. I'd been running after him before I was even aware of it. Ponyboy. His name was enough to get me running, all of us following Johnny from the house and down the street. If Richard had hurt him…if he'd laid a hand on my little brother again, I was going to kill him. Actually kill him. Damn the consequences. He'd hurt my brother so much…never again. He wouldn't touch my baby brother again. Johnny didn't even pause when he crossed the streets, leading us to the park where a boy was holding a gun to a man's head.

I didn't recognize him at first. A blond boy, taller than Pony, had been pointing a gun at a man's forehead. He'd looked furious and scared, eyes darting to us but not staying there. Blood had dripped from his nose and I'd wondered if Richard had been the one to punch him. Until he'd spoken, I hadn't recognized my baby brother. He was taller, with lighter hair and a scar doing down the side of his face. And then, after he'd spoken…I couldn't believe it. Ponyboy didn't point guns at people. Heck, he didn't even point them at ducks! He was a hell of a shot when we practiced with targets. Hit the bulls eye more times that me or Soda. But he didn't like killing things. Our dad had never been bothered by it…still took him hunting with us. But he and Soda had always goofed off the whole time, scaring the ducks more often than not.

In rumbles, Ponyboy did pretty well, but he wasn't much of a fighter. He didn't go around hurting people. He wasn't a hood. And I was glad! I didn't ever want him to turn into one of those guys…someone who hurt people for fun or robbed stores or…well, anything Tim Shepherd did. I wanted him to get out of this place…go to college and get a good job. But this guy, the one holding a gun to Richard's forehead…he didn't look like my baby brother. He looked like a hood who was about to kill someone.

Then Dally had gone up to him, dropping a hand on his shoulder and telling him to put it down…and he had. Ponyboy always listened to Dally. The blond hood with a scar on his face and a gun pointed at a man's forehead had turned back into my brother. He had been scared and he didn't want that man to hurt him again…not him or Rita. Rita had been backing up, arms crossed tight over her chest, a bruise forming on her cheek. I didn't know how he'd gotten to her, but he could have done to her what he'd done to Lianne. I didn't know why she had been in the park in the first place, or why Ponyboy and Johnny were back…or even how they'd known that Richard was being looked for by the police. All I knew what that Dally had finally gotten him to put the gun down and then I'd gotten to hold him for the first time in nearly a year.

Now he sat across from me, picking at his food and staring down at his plate. I'd seen the burns now…Soda had been staring down at his arm on the porch and I hadn't been able to help myself. No one was supposed to hurt my brother. Sure, we rumbled and he'd get banged up a little…we all did. But this was different. A man had put out cigarettes on his arms. I was sure there had been bruises all over him too. Those had probably faded by now. But he still had little round scars all over his arms, and I knew he had marks on his back too.

Our dad had spanked us when we were kids, but he'd sure never taken a belt to any of us. He never would have left a mark on us. That wasn't the kind of family we were! Our parents had loved us and I loved my brothers…I'd hit Pony once but it had been an accident and now, sitting across from me was my baby brother who'd be gone for so long and who'd been beaten and tortured and…I didn't know what to say. I hadn't been prepared for this. I didn't know how to help him. I was supposed to protect him.

Two-Bit headed out when Sodapop and Steve did, probably going back home. I waited for the door to close behind him before speaking. "You want something else to eat?" I asked, noticing that he wasn't really eating. "We got some cake."

He gave a half smile, shaking his head. "Nah. I'm not really hungry, Dar." He had eaten just half of his food, but it was something, so I shrugged it off, starting to grab my plate, but he snatched it away, grinning and taking both plates to the sink. Snorting, I stood and joined him, leaning against the counter as he washed the breakfast dishes. I was glad he seemed mostly okay…tired, sure, and kind of distracted. Almost scared. But mostly okay.

"How you feeling?" I asked, eyeing him critically. I couldn't help thinking that they could take him away again at any time. I didn't have custody over him. He was still officially in the custody of the state. I needed to call Officer Charlton and hopefully he would come and then maybe all of this could get straightened out.

"I'm alright. Tired." He admitted, putting the last of the dishes in the drainer.

"Yeah? You wanna lay down again?"

"Am I gonna have to leave, Darry?" He asked instead of answering, and my heart wrenched at the bags under his eyes. I wanted to lie to him, but I couldn't bring myself to…not if he could be disappointed again. I'd let him down too many times in the past year.

"I don't know, kiddo. I've gotta call Officer Charlton and see if he can help us get this straightened out. But if you gotta go again, it ain't gonna be for long. He's gonna help us, okay? He's kept his word so far." I reached out, squeezing his shoulder, and he forced a grin, nodding.

"Okay." I ruffled his hair, not wanting to let him go. Not wanting him to disappear again. His shoulders were sharp under my hand…he'd lost too much weight, and he looked scrawny and hungry. The scar on his face made him look almost mean.

"It's gonna be okay, Pony. I promise." He smiled for read then, that thought flying from my head. He wasn't mean. My little brother was a good kid. He loved to read and he couldn't kill a duck, much less a person. He was a good kid and I was so glad to have him back.

I went into the living room, picking up the phone, and Pony sat on the couch, eyes closing immediately as he leaned against the pillows, legs curled up beside him. I kept an eye on him as I dialed the cop, and after a few rings, he answered. "This is Charlton." The cop answered, sounding kind of tired. I wondered if he'd gotten anymore sleep than the rest of us. I'd woken up twice in the middle of the night, jerking awake from nightmares where it was Pony on the other side of that gun, Richard holding it to his forehead. In both of them, I'd run to my brother, arms outstretched to protect him, and both times Richard had pulled the trigger, my little brother going limp on the sidewalk. Both times I'd gotten out of bed, wiping tears from my eyes and sneaking into the other bedroom, just looking down at Ponyboy while he slept curled up next to Sodapop, Soda's arms around him. I hadn't dared touch him and scare him…instead, I'd just watched him until my heart had stopped the pounding and the pain in my chest had receded enough for me to go back to sleep.

"Officer Charlton? This is Darrel Curtis."

"Darrel? How's your little brother?" He asked immediately, and I glanced at Pony again. He was curled up on his side, just about asleep. I lowered my voice, smiling a little. He needed rest. Somehow he'd been up before all of us, but I doubted he'd slept through the night, even though I hadn't had the chance to ask Soda if he'd had nightmares. Each time I'd gone in, he'd been sound asleep.

"He's okay…or he will be." Pony didn't stir when I spoke. "That's what I need to talk to you about."

"Yes…I've been on the phone with the state. Would you be able to come to my office today?" I hesitated.

"I really don't want to leave him alone today." I told the officer softly, keeping my eyes on my nearly asleep brother. "I mean…if I can bring him…but he's awful tired."

Officer Charlton's voice softened. "That's not a problem. I understand." He told me. "I can be at your house in about an hour if that's okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Thank you, sir."

I hung up, standing and grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and covering him up. He barely moved, and I wondered if he was okay…if Sodapop hadn't been right. Maybe he did need to see a doctor. But to take him to the doctor I needed custody. At the moment we were kind of in a weird place…I half felt that if I didn't say anything, then no one would come for him. If we were quiet enough, we could get away with just keeping him for three more years. But that wasn't fair, not to any of us, especially not Ponyboy. I wouldn't be able to take him to the doctor or even get him in school. No way. He needed to know where we stood…I did to. So as nice as it would be to pretend that everything was fine and he was home for good, we couldn't do it.

I let him sleep for about thirty minutes while I cleaned the kitchen, trying to be quiet, then got dressed and made my bed. When a half hour had passed, I decided to wake him. He'd want to be awake and dressed when the cop got here. So I shook his shoulder, sitting down beside him so I wouldn't be towering over him. I hated that I had to even consider that…but it was how I acted with Johnny so at least I had some experience. "Pone? Wake up." I urged quietly, and he jerked awake, eyes wide as he looked around. He didn't look scared, though, so I was grateful for that at least.

"Hey…" His voice was rough and kind of tired, but other than that he sounded okay. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yeah. Officer Charlton's gonna be here soon." I ruffled his hair and jumped to my feet, heading over to the coffee table and grabbing a couple of glasses that Two-Bit and Steve must have left on the table at some point. I didn't ask Pony to help clean up, but he grabbed the blanket, folding it and throwing it neatly over the back of the sofa, as familiar as I was with this routine. He'd probably only be in the living room, so I focused on that, me grabbing a vacuum and Pony running into his room to get dressed. He came out in a pair of jeans in a long sleeved shirt, his blond hair flopping in his face. I chuckled as he pushed it out of his face.

"Blond, huh? Never pictured you as a blond." His ears went a dull red and he shoved some of it behind his ear.

"Me either." He muttered as I wrapped the vacuum cord up, putting it out of the way in the corner. He grabbed a rag and ran it over the coffee table and then the top of the TV and the radio, carefully moving the photos on top of a shelf as he dusted that too. I refolded the newspaper and put it back more neatly, then nearly tripped over Soda's shoes. Cursing at my other brother, I put them by the door by mine and Pony's, making sure my tool belt was hanging up and not on the floor.

Once the living room was cleaned up, I paused and looked around, nodding. "That ought to do it." He was pushing his hair back again and I grinned. "Why don't you grease it?"

He shrugged, but headed into the bathroom, grabbing some grease and combing it back. I headed into the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring aimlessly, then heading over to the cabinets. We were kind of low on food but I didn't think Officer Charlton was gonna care. He wasn't a social worker. I had to keep telling myself that…he wasn't a social worker. Pony and I could go to the grocery after he left and it would be fine. He wasn't going to take my brother away.

Ponyboy came into the kitchen and I had to grin a little. He looked about twelve with blond hair, and from the look on his face he knew it too. I patted his shoulder. "Maybe we can dye it back." I offered. He rolled his eyes.

"I ain't dying my hair like a girl." He grumbled. I was about to reply when there was a knock on the door, and Pony went stiff.

"Hey, he's not a social worker. Okay? He ain't gonna take you away." I assured him, rubbing his back. He nodded, crossing his arms uncomfortably. "It's okay." I didn't have time to comfort him anymore than that so I left it alone, heading into the living room to answer the door.

On our porch was Officer Charlton, dark bags under his eyes telling me that apparently he'd slept about as much as I had. I shook his hand, grateful that he was still willing to help us. "Officer Charlton." I greeted.

"Hello, Darrel." He smiled, shaking my hand, then glanced past me to my little brother who was standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed. I stepped back, inviting the cop in, and shut the door behind him. "Ponyboy Curtis." Officer Charlton smiled a little, holding out a hand, and Pony seemed to take a deep breath, relaxing and smiling back. He took the cop's hand, shaking.  
"Hello, Officer." He didn't much like cops, but I knew he'd always be polite to them. Besides, this one had helped us, and he knew we owed him a lot.

"I have to say, it's good to see you, Mr. Curtis. We all thought…well, I'm glad you're alright." Pony stared at the carpet, muttering a 'thank you,' and I gestured for the cop to take a seat in the recliner while I led Pony over to the sofa. I noticed the cop's eyes on my hand that rested on my brother's shoulder, and how he sat right next to me, our arms almost touching, like he was hoping I'd protect him. I would. As much as I could, I would protect him.

"Is Richard in jail?" Pony asked before Officer Charlton could say anything else and I glanced over at him, concerned. Across from us, Officer Charlton nodded, looking real serious.

"Richard is in custody and he won't be getting out for a long time." Pony kept staring down at his feet.

"What about the state?" I asked, leaning in. "Have you talked to anyone there?"

"With Richard and your social worker under investigation, Ponyboy is technically in the custody of the State of Oklahoma." Beside me, Ponyboy flinched. "I have a meeting with a representative from Social Services this afternoon, and another one tomorrow where I will recommend that you regain custody of your brother. I've spoken to a social worker on the phone already this morning." I nodded…I couldn't ask for much more.

"Am I gonna have to go back to the boy's home?" Pony asked, his voice small and defeated, and I clenched my jaw, hating this more than anything. He was scared to death somebody was going to take him away again. So was I…and so were the rest of the guys. I couldn't imagine Soda coming home and having to tell him that Pony was gone again. I prayed it didn't happen…that Officer Charlton didn't make me into a liar.

The cop leaned in, looking my brother right in the eye. "Honestly…I don't know, Ponyboy. I hope not. I'm going to do my best to make sure you get to stay right here. There will be a hearing, probably sooner rather than later, and it's possible that you would have to stay in the boy's home until the hearing, but you would have visiting rights." Pony just nodded, jaw tight.

"We really appreciate this, Officer Charlton." I told him softly, leaning back against the sofa. Pony stayed where he was, hunched over and scared.

"Of course Darrel." The cop nodded. "There is one thing, though…" He glanced at Ponyboy who took a moment to make eye contact. He couldn't seem to keep eye contact, not with me or Soda, and not with the police officer. He was trying though…I didn't even want to think about why this was so hard for him at the moment. "We have your foster sister's statement, Ponyboy, but it would help our case if we could get yours as well." I draped an arm around his shoulder, noticing how my brother tensed beside me. "It wouldn't have to be right now…"

"Maybe later this week…" I suggested, looking down at my little brother who was staring up at me, eyes wide and scared. "You don't have to talk about it just yet, Pony. Sodapop can be here too, and…"

Suddenly she shook his head, something flashing in his eyes. "Soda ain't gotta be here. I'll do it now." He told us, turning to the cop. "Can we just do it now?"

Officer Charlton hesitated for a moment, looking between us with something like pity in his eyes. After a moment, though, he nodded, pulling out his notebook.

"Sure, Ponyboy. We can do it now."

I squeezed my brother's arm, giving him a look he had to fight to return. "You don't have to, kiddo. You can do it another time." Honestly, I didn't know if _I_ was ready. I knew he would need to talk about what had happened to him at that hellhole…it would help our case to get him back, and it would help him get past it, but I was afraid. I was afraid he was gonna break when he finally relived all of it. I was afraid he wasn't gonna be able to tell it. And I was afraid that he was never gonna be better…back to his old self.

And why didn't he want Sodapop to be there? He always wanted Soda around…those two were real close and he talked to Soda about almost everything. What had happened that he didn't want Sodapop to know? I mean…I'd be there. I'd listen. And I was glad he didn't mind me being around and listening. He seemed somewhat comforted that I was with him. But why not Soda?

Either way, I kept my arm around him. If he wanted to talk to the cop now and get it over with, that was alright with me.

"Why don't you start with your first week with Richard and his family."


	44. Interview

**_So first, I want to thank all of my reviewers and readers. Each one of you makes my day, and every review I get makes me so happy. I love knowing that people enjoy my stories, and reviews are a tangible way to see it._**

 ** _Second, I think there will be 2 more chapters. Maybe 3...I'm so bad at predicting that kind of thing. But I have more stories coming and I hope you guys like those as well. Writing is one of my favorite things to do, and I have a particular story coming up that I'm very excited about._**

 ** _Third, this chpater involves abuse. Like, more blatant than most of what has come before. Not graphic, but sexual abuse is mentioned and alluded to, so be prepared._**

 _Interview_

It wasn't that I didn't want Sodapop around. I did…more than anything I wanted Soda to be here when I told the cop everything…or as much as I could manage to say. I didn't know if I could say all of it. Sometimes when I thought about it, shame threatened to choke me and my throat would close up…I couldn't stand the thought of talking about all of it in front of Soda. He'd start bawling or worse, and I couldn't get through it if I knew how hard it was for him to hear it. Honestly, it wasn't fair to want Darry to stay either. It wasn't any easier for him, I knew, but he wouldn't show it. I still wouldn't be able to look at him, but he wouldn't cry or nothing probably…just sit real quiet. Maybe break something later, if that hole in the wall was anything to go by.

"Why don't you start with your first week with Richard and his family." Easy enough. I remembered it...every bit of it. It would start out easy and get real tough to talk about real fast. Already I wanted to be sick just thinking about it. "I'm just going to write down everything you say, and afterwards, you can look it over and sign it if it's all right. Does all of that sound okay?"

"You can wait if you want." Darry reminded me softly when I hesitated, his arm around my shoulders. I felt safe, at least. Darry would never let anyone hurt me. Not Richard or this cop or anyone else. He'd die first. I was as safe as I could be at the moment, so I could get it all over with and just say everything that had happened. Then maybe I'd never have to talk about it again. It was a ridiculous idea, but a comforting one.

"Yeah. That's fine." Officer Charlton nodded.

"Okay, go ahead and start whenever you're ready."

I was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly to say. So much had happened...stuff I could talk about and things I would never be able to say out loud. To anyone. Finally, I decided to just start at the beginning as he'd asked and do my best to get through it as fast as I could. "It wasn't so bad. Not at first." I told the cop, looking at his notepad rather than at him. "The other guys were fine, and Rita was okay. No one really said much to me. It was a couple of days before anything happened…I just heard him yelling a lot, but I stayed late at school, doing homework, or walked around before I had to go back to that house. The other two, Tyler and Mark, and me all shared a room. I just wanted to keep my head down so I could go home."

"Did Richard ever hit them?" The cop wondered when I was quiet for a moment.

"Yeah…just when they'd walk by or something, he slap them on the back of the head or something. Not real hard…mostly they stayed out of his way." I told him. "A few days in…I don't remember how many…four or five I guess…I went out to the porch to smoke. I'd done it before but he was never home. His wife, Tammy, didn't care. No one said I wasn't supposed to, and I went outside...I didn't smoke in the house ever." I hated that I felt like I was defending myself like this…like it really was my fault. My voice had gotten faster and faster until I had to stop to take a breath. Darry must have felt me falling apart because he reached out, rubbing my back.

He didn't say anything, but he moved a little closer to me, and the cop was looking sympathetically at me which I hated, so I dropped my eyes again, staring at his notepad again. "Do you want something to drink?" The cop offered, like it was his house or something, and I shook my head. I just wanted this to be over.

"He came outside…I didn't know what he was doing. He didn't say nothing. I was gonna apologize...I didn't know…" Shrugging, I stared down at the floor. "He grabbed the cigarette out of my hand and grabbed my arm…then he put it out on my arm." Darry jerked a little behind me but didn't stop rubbing circles on my back. I didn't dare look back at him.

"Can I see your arm?" The cop's voice was quiet and almost apologetic.

"No." The word was out before I could stop it, my arms crossed tight across my chest, and Darry's hand went to my shoulder, squeezing a little.

"Maybe later." He told the cop, his voice quiet and firm. The cop nodded.

"Of course. Go on, Ponyboy."

"I went to the social worker after that. I got some change for the bus and went the next day instead of going to school. She was in her office and I went in…I told her what he'd done. And I showed her my arm…" I swallowed hard, hating this part. Hating all of it. "She was nice. Told me not to worry…had me get in her car…" I choked a little on my words. "I thought she was gonna bring me home. I just wanted to come home…I told her I didn't need my stuff when we got closer to that house…I thought…"

Darry hugged me to his side, rubbing a hand up and down my arm. For a long time, I couldn't talk, not wanting to remember. Not wanting to relive any of it. I wanted to disconnect like I had when Richard had been hitting me in his living room, everyone else in their rooms, ignoring the slap of the belt. But I couldn't, not with Darry sitting right beside me, holding me, just like I'd wanted for so long. I was suddenly really glad Soda wasn't there. He couldn't take it.

The cop was patient, waiting until I could talk again. "She dropped me off at the house, walking me inside. I still thought she was going to bring me home…I just thought...I thought she was going to let me get my stuff. Then…she told Richard…he was in the living room. She told me I'd come to her office and that I'd accused him of hurting me. Then she left."

"She's in police custody. Even if she's released, she'll never get her job back." Officer Charlton assured me softly. I nodded, arms still crossed. "Where was Richard's wife during this?"

"She was in the kitchen. Everyone else was in their bedrooms." He nodded and Darry kept me close, still quiet. "He…he took off his belt. Pushed me against the wall and hit me with it." I hadn't told anyone this…not Johnny or Dally or anyone. I didn't want to tell him now. But they had to know. And I knew I'd have to tell Sodapop at some point, too, but I couldn't stand the thought of it. "I don't know how long or anything…a long time. I was bleeding when he stopped. He told me if I ever did anything stupid like that, he'd kill me. Then he said he'd come after Darry and Soda too." I didn't stop. I couldn't, or I didn't know if I'd be able to start again. "I went to the room I shared with Mark and Tyler and around midnight, I heard him in Rita's room. Lianne wasn't with us yet. He was…well, you know. She told you." I muttered, my ears red. "I wasn't gonna let him hurt her if I could stop it." I defended myself, even though no one had accused me. "I went in and grabbed him…pulled him off of her and punched him in the nose. I got a couple of hits in before he got a hold of me." The cop was writing furiously and I hesitated, letting him catch up.

"The next thing I remember, Rita was trying to get me off the floor…I couldn't hardly move…slept on the floor that night. Mark and Tyler didn't know. I slept in her room most nights from then on…slept at the foot of the bed on the floor and stopped him from hurting her as much as I could. It didn't always work. I tried, though. I…I tried." My voice died and I stared down at my feet.

"I know you did, kiddo," Darry told me softly. "I know…it's okay." He put both arms around me, his lips pressing against the top of my head in a gesture so surprising and that reminded me of Dad so much that I thought for a second I was going to fall apart. I managed to take a deep breath, though, pulling away and looking up at him for the first time. He wasn't crying or anything, but I knew he was real upset, his hand coming up and pushing my hair back. "Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes serious and gentle. I took a minute to think about that, not wanting to lie to him.

"Yeah. I'm okay." He nodded, sitting back but staying close as we turned back to the cop. I didn't look at him, just staring at the notepad.

"I kept smoking on the porch. It was dumb...but I didn't want to stop because of him. So I kept smoking and he kept catching me."

"Was Richard the only one that hurt you?" The cop asked.

"Yeah," I told him, glad to have an easy one to answer. "Tammy saw him do it sometimes, but she never hit me. Sometimes she told him to stop when he'd been hitting me for a while. He was the worst with me…I guess cause I kept sleeping in Rita's room. The others were better at staying out of his way." I shrugged. "It was like that until Lianne showed up." I wanted to go back to bed…just lay down under the covers and hide until I could fall asleep. But I needed to tell him about Lianne. She deserved that much. "She smarted off to him on her first day and he slapped her. Later, we were both out on the porch…she came out and found me out there. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, and he showed up out of nowhere, grabbing for it. I got it before he could and threw it into the yard."

"What did he do?" The officer asked when it was obvious I wasn't going to go on. I was lost for a minute, remembering.

"I thought he was finally going to kill me." I admitted. "I mean, I'd kind of thought that before, but he just kept hitting me and kicking me. Lianne ran off. Don't know where. Finally, his wife came out and said something and he left me on the porch. Tyler came out and got me to our room somehow…guess he carried me. I couldn't move the next day. I heard him saying something about a hospital to Mark, but there was no way either of them could get me to a hospital." I shrugged.

"How long did it take you to recover?"

"I was able to go back to school that Monday…it happened on a Thursday. But I was peeing blood for almost a week, and I couldn't hardly stand up straight. Couldn't really eat, either. Everything made me sick. Not that they fed us much."

"Tell me more about that." Officer Charlton suggested, probably just wanting to give Darry a break. From the way he was sitting beside me, I knew he wasn't taking this real well. Soda would have lost it by then, though, so I was just grateful he was quiet.

"Tammy cooked sometimes but mostly just for Richard. We ate whatever was left over. Sometimes they'd have his friends over and we'd have more leftovers to eat. We weren't allowed to eat at the table with them, and if we got caught taking anything from the kitchen, she'd tell Richard he'd come after us. Mark and Tyler gave me money for lunch when they could afford it, so sometimes I could eat at school."

The phone rang then, startling us all, and after hesitating for a second, Darry got up to grab it. Officer Charlton moved from the recliner, giving him some privacy, and I headed into the kitchen, deciding to get a glass of water after all. I took a long drink, blinking hard. I wasn't gonna break down. I was going to tell this story and then it would be over. Leaving the glass in the sink, I went back to the sofa and sat down, arms crossed as Darry told whoever it was that he'd call them back in an hour.

"Tim Shepherd." He explained, taking a seat beside me again and putting his arm around me. I was kind of surprised. Darry was never really affectionate with me…not unless I was sick or something. At least, not since our parents and he'd gotten so busy and frustrated and tired all the time. I didn't mind it…heck, it was nice having someone touch you without hurting you. I'd almost forgotten that after Richard. It made me feel safe again.

"I made sure to sleep in their room every night after Lianne moved in." I started, wanting this to be over. "I went to a bar nearby and hid out, and by the end, smoking about made me sick. Heck, I still get sick just thinking about smoking. The last one I lit up was the day he killed her, and I didn't even want it…just did it to show him he couldn't stop me. But he did…" I trailed off, eyes hot. He'd stopped me from smoking in the end. I hated him for it. "I hid during the day, but I couldn't let him hurt Lianne and Rita. So I made sure to be back by the time they were going to bed. Mark and Tyler didn't know, I guess. He…he raped Lianne once." I admitted softly. "No one was home…she didn't talk for almost a week…it was my fault. I stayed out too late. I made sure to be back earlier from then on."

"It was not your fault," Darry broke in softly, his voice firm. "Hey." He pulled me around to face him when I didn't answer, both of us forgetting the cop for a second. "Nothing that man did was your fault, you hear me? I mean it, Pony. None of it." I knew he believed it, but I didn't know if I could. Still, I nodded so we could get on with it.

"She threatened to talk. To keep talking until someone listened. I was at the bar…hadn't gone home yet. It was a few days before the last day of school." More stuff had happened, but he'd gotten the gist. I wanted to wrap this up. "I was reading a book behind the bar. From the school library. The bartender let me stay and gave me cherry cokes sometimes. I'd read behind the bar so I wouldn't have to go home. My grades were no good by the end of the year. I knew you'd be mad…I just couldn't…" I admitted, glancing at Darry.

"Don't worry about that." He told me softly, rubbing my back. "I ain't mad, honey. We'll figure all that out later. No way you could have kept your grades up with all that going on." A weight lifted off my shoulders…it was stupid, but I'd been worried. I didn't want to let him down…not after everything.

"He drove up in a car I didn't recognize and pushed Lianne out. There was another car too...his friends were in that one. Someone else was driving. There was a hole dug…I hadn't noticed before, but…" I didn't want to say it. I didn't want to remember. "I guess they did it earlier. She was gonna get him caught so he killed her. Him and a bunch of his friends. They…they raped her and he stabbed her after." The words were sour in my mouth and for a second I thought I was going to throw up. "She screamed…but one of 'em put his hand over her mouth and…the bar…the music was too loud. No one could hear." Darry was holding me against his side again and the cop was nodding, writing down a few things before pausing. "I couldn't...I couldn't yell...I didn't get help or try to stop him..." I shook my head, still unable to believe that. "After he stabbed her...they saw me. I think I yelled or something. Then...they were going to kill me too." I didn't need to tell the rest. It was obvious from my face that they'd nearly succeeded.

For a moment the cop was quiet, writing. Then, he looked up at me, almost apologetic. "Ponyboy, you said that Richard raped both Lianne and Rita…did he ever do the same to yourself or your foster brothers?" I felt my ears get hot and my stomach rebelled. Wasn't it bad enough I'd had to tell him all the other stuff? I wanted Darry to tell him that I didn't have to answer that…that I didn't have to talk about it if I didn't want to. But my brother was silent. Scared. He'd never look at me the same after this.

"I don't know if he ever did anything to Mark or Tyler…not while I was there." I hesitated and there was a silence so thick I could hear our neighbors talking about what they were going to have for lunch. Soup, apparently. "He tried once." I admitted, staring down at the carpet, my hands shaking so hard it almost hurt. My eyes got hot and Darry held me even tighter, like that could keep me still. "He didn't…but he tried." I couldn't even say the words. My throat closed up and I had to fight not to start bawling. I didn't want to remember that. I'd show him my arms and my back if I had to but I didn't want to talk about that. "Tried to make me…I got away." Of course, I'd lied before. No way I could ever tell Sodapop or Darry what that man had tried to do…or how close he'd gotten. I couldn't tell them that I hadn't been able to keep food down for days or how I'd slept behind that bar for two nights instead of going back to stand up for Rita. It hurt. It all hurt so much.

"Okay, Ponyboy. That's all I need." The cop told me gently, and I skimmed the page he put in front of me, signing my name with a hand barely strong enough to hold the pen. He said some other stuff, talking to Darry who stood for a moment, then sat back down beside me. I was so tired…so wrung out. I felt sick and exhausted and I didn't know how I was going to keep going.

"Glory, Mom and Dad would be so proud of you." Darry's soft words startled me, and I turned to look at him, his eyes earnest and gentle on mine. " _I'm_ so proud of you." He rested his forehead against the side of my head and I lost it.

I didn't recognize the noises coming from my mouth when I cried…it sounded more like a hurt dog than a person, but I couldn't stop it. He just held me for a long time…so long that I was getting hot, pressed up against him, but I couldn't have moved if I'd tried. He rocked me for a while, just like Mom, and promised that everything would be okay…that no matter what, he wasn't gonna let anyone hurt me anymore. I remembered all of it, the belt and his hands and the cigarettes and Rita and Lianne…I remembered a school full of strangers and feeling so scared all the time I couldn't do homework and of feeling sick, knowing how disappointed Darry was going to be. I remembered being cornered in the house, just me and Richard, and the pain in my ankle when I'd jumped off the porch…how cold it had been behind the bar in those woods where I'd slept and hid out for two nights until thoughts of Rita had driven me back to the house.

At some point he moved us to my bedroom and pulled the covers around me, laying down beside me and rubbing my back, trying to get me to calm down…I didn't think I ever could. "I wanted him to kill me," I admitted at some point, the words making him go rigid beside me. "I just wanted it to be over, Darry."

"It's over. You're okay, and it's over." He told me over and over, until finally, I wasn't crying anymore, just laying in his arms, my breath shuddering and my hands still shaking. I was too tired to fight sleep, so I let my eyes close, and the next thing I knew, someone was pushing my hair back.

It was dark outside and I blinked in confusion at the dim room, the lamp across the room giving off the only light. I forgot where I was, and it was terrifying for a second until Soda called my name quietly, making me jump. "Soda?" I asked, blinking up at him, and his silhouette nodded.

"Yeah, it's me, honey. How do you feel?"

"What…did I sleep all day?" I asked, disoriented as I glanced again at the dark window.

"Yeah. Darry said you went to sleep about an hour after that cop left." An hour…I'd cried in his arms for an hour. Honestly, I couldn't summon up the energy to feel ashamed. "The guys came by but he didn't want anyone to wake you. Said you weren't feeling good." I wondered how much Darry had told our brother…how much of my story he'd repeated to Soda and the guys. Guess it didn't matter…they were all family anyway. As long as I didn't have to talk about it anymore. "Do you feel okay now?"

"I…yeah? I think so." He stroked my hair again. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine. Are you hungry?"

"I…I don't know," I admitted, rubbing my eyes. "I…I feel weird," I told him. I hadn't dreamed at all…just closed my eyes and suddenly the day was gone.

I heard the smile in his voice when he answered. "Yeah, I bet. Sleeping all day will do that. Come on." He got an arm behind me and helped me sit up. "Everyone's gone home. Darry made burgers for dinner. Why don't you take a shower and then try to eat one." I nodded…come to think of it, I was pretty hungry. So I took his hand and stood up, swaying a little, then rubbing my eyes again. I was still groggy, but I figured a shower would help. But first, I needed to know something.

"Hey, Soda?"

"Yeah?" He asked. It helped that I couldn't quite make out his face.

"Did Darry tell you…you and the guys…everything?"

Soda hesitated for a minute. "He told them a lot of it. He told me all of it." He finally admitted, reaching out and grabbing my shoulder. I thought he was going to say something else, but he just pulled me close, arms around me, and I hugged him back, my head against his shoulder. We were the same height now, and it was so weird to be able to look him straight on.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, not sure exactly what I was sorry for. He shook his head.

"Don't ever apologize, not for this, Pony." He pulled away, hands on his shoulders, looking at me in the dim light. "You were braver than I could ever be, you know that? You did everything you could to save those girls, and you lived through stuff I couldn't even imagine. You ain't gotta apologize for any of it. I'm proud of you, Pony. So proud…"

"It wasn't enough," I whispered, not going to cry anymore, but still miserable. "I didn't save her."

"You did everything you possibly could, Pone. If you'd have done anymore, then you'd be in the ground with her, and I don't know if I could survive that." He ruffled my hair. "You're not responsible for what he did. You couldn't have saved her." I nodded, knowing he was right and hating it. "Now go take a shower and we'll have some dinner, okay?"

Giving in, I nodded. Dinner sounded good, and my stomach was growling. "Okay."

 ** _Thank you for reading!_**


	45. Figuring It Out

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed or read my story so far. I know I keep saying 3-4 more chapters...and honestly I'm not sure how many more there will be. I have a rough outline in my head, but no solid plans. Sorry! I hope you continue to enjoy the story until the end. :)**_

Figuring It Out

He fell asleep in my arms and I was glad. He'd been exhausted before the interview I hadn't even wanted him doing yet. I mean, I was glad it was over, but the toll it had taken on my little brother had been painful to watch. Even Officer Charlton had trouble keeping his composure through some of it. Then, after he'd left, my little brother had broken apart, and I'd done my best, feeling more inadequate than I had since getting custody. I mean, it had been terrifying from the beginning...raising two teenagers when we'd all just lost our parents. But how was I supposed to help Ponyboy get through this when I could barely stand to listen to what he'd gone through.

He'd wanted Richard to kill him. Richard had tried to rape my brother. He'd been worried about his grades because he thought I would be mad. They didn't feed him or the other kids in that house. He'd wanted it to be over…my little brother had wanted to die. The thought had made me sick…literally sick. I'd thought I was going to throw up right then and there when Pony had blurted it out between sobs, his head burrowed in my chest, sweat soaking his hair. But I couldn't…it hadn't mattered how I had felt about it…I had to be there for Pony until he was okay again. So I'd waited until he'd fallen asleep, rubbing his back and telling him it was okay again and again until I was absolutely sure he was asleep.

Then I'd thrown up as quietly as I could in our bathroom, making sure to flush the toilet and brush my teeth. As I was putting my toothbrush back in the cup and washing my mouth out, the phone rang again, and I raced to pick it up, not wanting it to wake Ponyboy. He'd seemed pretty out of it, but he needed rest and I didn't want to risk waking him. Picking up the phone, I spoke quietly, dropping into my recliner. "Hey Darrel." Tim greeted me. "What's going on?"

"A cop was here earlier. Wanted to talk to Ponyboy about everything."

"Yeah?"

"He gave his statement and the cop's got a meeting with the State sometime tomorrow I think. He's gonna recommend I get custody."

"Good. How's the kid?"

"He'll be fine." Tim and Pony weren't close, not like him and the guys, who I planned to tell most of it. He was a good friend to have, especially over the last few months, and I wasn't sure what we would have done without him. Only Sodapop, though, would get the whole story. The guys would get a condensed version from me and Ponyboy could tell them whatever else he wanted to. Tim, on the other hand, would get next to nothing. It wasn't my story to tell and Tim didn't need to know. Pony wouldn't want him to know. "He's pretty tired and he needs to eat more, but he'll be alright."

"Yeah? Good. He's a tough kid…how 'bout the Cade kid?"

"Fine as far as I know." He hummed, and I felt bad. I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to Johnny about any of it...all of my focus had been on my little brother. But Johnny had risked a lot to look after Ponyboy, and I appreciated it more than I'd been able to tell him.

"Since that asshole's in jail, we're probably gonna stick close to our side of town for a while. But you guys just holler if you need help."

"You got it. Thanks, Tim…for everything. If you guys hadn't been around…"

"Don't worry about it." He brushed me off. "Take care of those kids, man. And say hi to Dally for me." And with that, he hung up, leaving me in the silence once more.

I flipped on the TV, leaving it on the news while I looked around the kitchen again. I needed to go to the grocery, but I wasn't about to leave Ponyboy alone, so I threw in a load of laundry and made my bed. That was about all there was to do around the house, so I checked on Ponyboy again, peeking in and finding him curled up in a ball, sound asleep. He didn't even stir when I went over to him, pulling the covers up to his shoulders and pushing his hair back.

Before Officer Charlton had left, he'd told me that Ponyboy would most likely need to be checked out by a doctor to make sure there were no lasting effects of his stay with Richard. I'd known that Richard and his wife hadn't fed him much and that he'd knocked him around, but after hearing Pony's side of it, and I was sure there was stuff he wasn't telling us, I was worried, especially about the beating that had left him unable to stand upright for days. I wished once more I'd pressed Tim…that I'd fought harder to find him. I'd just wanted to keep us out of trouble up until the hearing, but I'd let him down. While I'd been waiting around, my baby brother had been losing hope.

Our front door slammed and I rolled my eyes, leaving Pony in the room alone and shutting the door quietly behind me. The overhead fan was on, which I hoped would be enough noise to keep him from waking up. Two-Bit was grinning at me from the living room, and I was glad he was in a better mood. I knew he'd missed Pony a lot…those two palled around plenty despite the age difference. Two looked out for my little brother and I think he was glad for the company when he was wandering around town. His grin dropped a little at my serious look though. "What's up? He okay?" Two-Bit demanded, glancing back at the room. "He sick?"

"Officer Charlton came by and Pony gave his statement…it was pretty hard on him. He's asleep now" Two-Bit swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I wanted him to wait, but he wanted to go ahead and get it over with. I'm gonna take him to the doctor this week…I'll have to wait until I get custody or the state says it's okay though. He told the cop that Richard beat him so bad once that he couldn't even stand up for a few days." I couldn't stop talking...for some reason, my mouth was still moving and Two-Bit went kind of white, running a thumb down his sideburns. "I don't think there's any permanent damage, and the burns on his arms are mostly healed. He just needs to get checked out."

Two-Bit grunted, opening our fridge and grabbing a beer, then seemed to think better of it and grabbed a soda instead, popping the lid off and downing it in a few gulps. "You see his arms?"

"Yeah, for a minute. The cop asked if he could see he Pony said no. He let me and Soda, though, so that's something."

"If that asshole weren't already in jail…" Two-Bit trailed off, throwing the bottle away. "Rita went to stay with a friend, and Susie's at the library…I promised to pick her up in two hours."

"She could've come over."

"I know. She said she wanted to get some more books. Kid's turning into your brother with all the reading. She's gonna stay at a girlfriend's house tonight, so I ain't gotta worry about her being home alone." He glanced at the bedroom door. "Think Pony'll wake up anytime soon?" I knew he wanted to talk to Pony about everything, but my brother needed to rest.

"No…he really needs to sleep. After telling the cop everything…I think he needs some time." For a moment I was quiet, staring at the floor. "He told me he wanted Richard to just go ahead and kill him…so it would all be over." Two-Bit swore again, rubbing at his eyes. "I just...I don't know what to do, man." I admitted in a whisper.

"You're his big brother. All you gotta do is be there." He told me quietly, patting me on the shoulder as he rummaged through our cabinets. "Also, go to the grocery. I'm starving." I snorted. Leave it to Two-Bit to lighten the mood.

"I didn't want to leave him." He shrugged, closing the cabinet and leaning on the counter.

"I'll stay with the kid. You ain't leaving him alone." For a second, I wanted to say no…that I wasn't leaving him at all, but he was right. Two-Bit could take care of Ponyboy and I could get the shopping done by the time he woke up. So, thanking Two and grabbing my wallet, I headed out, jumping in the truck.

I stopped at the DX, heading inside and finding Sodapop at the counter. When he saw me walk in, his face drained of blood, eyes going huge and scared as he tried to look around me, and it took me a minute to realize that he took Pony's absence as a sign that he was gone…taken away again. "He's at home, Pepsi-cola." I assured him, leaning on the counter and patting his shoulder. "He's just asleep." Soda let out a huge breath, slumping against the cash register. "Two-Bit's staying with him so I can go to the store."

"Yeah? Good…he okay?"

"Officer Charlton came by…and Pony gave his statement."

"He had to do it today?" Soda asked, incredulous.

"No…I think Pony just wanted it over with." I wasn't about to tell him that Pony hadn't wanted him there. Whatever reasons Ponyboy had for wanting it to just be me and him, I'd keep that information to myself until Pony wanted to bring it up. "It was pretty bad, Sodapop…he broke down after the cop left. He's been sleeping since."

Soda ran a hand through his hair, looking scared. "How bad?" He asked. I glanced around, glad the store was empty.

"Real bad. They didn't let the kids eat with them, just gave 'em leftovers. Pony said when he kept him from hurting Lianne, Richard beat him so bad he thought he was gonna kill him. Said he couldn't even get up for a couple of days, and couldn't stand upright for even longer. I need to take him to the doctor sometime this week, but I want to know about custody before I do…if he doesn't wake up in a few hours, I'll call the cop and ask if I can take Pony to the doctor before the hearing…make sure he's okay."

"What else?" Soda asked, his eyes wet, but he wasn't crying. "What else did he say?"

I'd already resolved to tell him everything, but it was hard to look Soda in the eye and say the words. "Pony said he'd wanted Richard to kill him…so it would be over." He clenched his jaw, shaking his head like he could make it go away. I supposed I might as well tell him the worst of it. "He also said that Richard…that he tried to…" My stomach twisted as I tried to say it but Sodapop understood immediately, going pale again.

"Did he…"

"No. Pony just said he got away…wouldn't say anything else about it. Wouldn't let the cop see his arms either."

"He tried to rape our brother." The words made me flinch, but his tone was worse than the words. "If he wasn't in jail…"

"I know." I reached out, squeezing his shoulder, hoping he realized how serious I was. Sodapop could be impulsive...reckless. We didn't need that right now. "He is, though, and Ponyboy needs you to be here Soda. He's gonna need you…as much as I want to kill that guy, I want Ponyboy to be okay more." That seemed to knock the wind out of his sails and he nodded, crossing his arms. "He fell apart after he told the cop everything…after he left. Cried for almost an hour…I didn't think he was gonna be able to stop. He really needs to sleep."

"We'll be quiet when we come home…I wanna come when you take him to the doctor. I'll take off or something."

"Sure." I nodded, not about to fight him on this. "I'll let you know when I figure it out. Maybe tomorrow." The bell over the door chimed and I stood upright, stepping away from the counter. "I'm gonna head out. I'll see you at home later."

"See you, Darry." He called, then greeted his customer as I left.

At the store, I filled my basket up with food, trying to hurry as I checked out, then almost running out to the truck, loading up the groceries, then driving home too quickly. Back at home, Two-Bit was watching TV, the volume on low. When I stepped inside, propping the front door open so that I could carry the groceries in, he stood up to help me, taking the bags I was holding and carrying them to the kitchen.

He helped me put the groceries away while I checked on Pony, feeling my heart sink a little when he hadn't even moved. I pushed his hair back again, resting the back of my hand on his forehead. He felt cool, almost clammy, and I pulled the covers up a little more. I was worried, but he didn't have a fever, so that was something. Since our parents had died, neither him nor Sodapop had really been sick, and the only time I'd had to take either one of them to the doctor had been when Ponyboy had been having those nightmares.

"He okay?" Two-Bit asked, leaning against the kitchen doorway, and I shrugged.

"He doesn't have a fever…hasn't moved since this morning though."

"You wanna try and wake him?" I didn't know. I was twenty-one years old and I had to take care of my traumatized, maybe sick fifteen-year-old little brother and he was sleeping a lot but I didn't know if that was right. Was I supposed to try and get him to eat something? Or should I let him rest? I didn't know. Every time one of my brothers was in any kind of trouble I felt like it might all falll apart...like the State would finally realize that I had no idea what I was doing and take them away. But Two-Bit was looking at me and Pony was relying on me so I nodded.

"Yeah…I'm gonna try and get him to drink something." That was right...it had to be. He needed to at least drink something. Otherwise, he might get sick.

I went into the kitchen, pouring some water into a glass, and then stepped back into his bedroom. Two-Bit hovered in the doorway as I knelt beside Ponyboy. He didn't move when I shook his shoulder a little. "Pony? Kiddo? Can you wake up for a second?" He was silent and I felt my stomach start to sink. What if he was sick? What if something was wrong? He was sleeping like he was dead, the only way I was sure he was alive was his chest rising and falling. "Honey, wake up." I shook him again, talking a little louder, and I heard Two-Bit shift behind me, feeling his nervousness combining with my own. "Ponyboy?" I shook him just a little harder and he finally started to stir, humming under his breath. "Hey, kiddo. You ready to get up?"

"Nu-uh." He muttered, trying to huddle back under the covers, and I smiled, thinking that it was just like when I was trying to get him up for school. Him and Soda were harder to get up in the morning than I had ever been, I was sure of it. I pushed his hair back, shaking him a little.

"Here. Take a drink, okay?" I held the glass to his lips, and he reluctantly opened his mouth, drinking, then dropping back on the pillow, his eye never opening. Putting the covers back over him, I ran a hand through his hair and left the room, shutting the door behind me.

Two and I were quiet as I dropping into my recliner once more, my hands clasped in my lap. "I'm gonna go ahead and get Susie…take her to her friend's house. You gonna be alright?" He asked me quietly, looking too serious.

"Yeah...I'll see you later, Two-Bit. Thanks for staying with him." He patted me on the shoulder as he left, glancing back at the bedroom door as he left.

I stared at the TV for a while, thinking about picking up a book or something, but I couldn't get myself to focus on much. I had to work the next day, but even though Soda was off, I was probably gonna take off too. We needed the money, but I wasn't ready to leave him yet. Picking up the phone, I went ahead and called my boss, giving him a brief rundown of what had happened and asking for the next day off. He was pretty understanding, and when I was done with that conversation, I called Officer Charlton once more, hoping he wasn't sick of talking to me yet.

"This is Charlton." He answered.

"Officer Charlton, it's Darrel Curtis."

"Hello Darrel. Everything alright?"

"Yeah…Pony's been asleep since you left. I think he's just tired but…I want to take him to the doctor, just to make sure he's okay. But I don't have custody yet and I didn't know…"

"I understand. Just let me call the social services office and have a talk with them. The woman I spoke to this morning, who will probably be your new social worker, was very understanding about your situation. I can ask her if you will be able to take him to the doctor or if a member of social services will need to accompany you. I can call now and get back to you in an hour or so if that sounds alright."

"That would be great. Thank you so much, Officer."

"Not a problem, Darrel." I put the phone down, closing my eyes and feeling once more that it was all too easy…that it should be harder. I was grateful, but every moment I felt like it was all going to come crashing down.

It wasn't five minutes later that the phone rang again, and I picked it up, feeling my stomach drop when the voice on the phone spoke. "Is Ponyboy or Johnny there?"

"Who's this?" I demanded, glancing around the room as though someone was about to pop up. I didn't recognize the voice, and I didn't know who'd be calling here asking for Pony or Johnny right now. If it was one of Richard's pals, they were gonna have to go through me to get to those two.

"Is this Ponyboy's brother?"

"Yeah. Who is this?" I snapped.

"This is Mr. Williams. They worked at my store for a couple of months over the summer." The man told me. "I asked them for a number where I could reach them to make sure they got home okay." I felt the air rush out of me in gust and I dropped back against the back of my recliner, eyes closing in relief. It wasn't Richard or one of his friends…no one was coming after my little brother or trying to harass us.

"Mr. Williams…you were their boss."

"Yes sir." He sounded somewhat amused and I smiled.

"I'm sorry. Things around here have been…well, kind of rough. But Ponyboy and Johnny got here last night. They're okay." I told him. I hadn't known that Pony had given him our phone number, or that he would bother calling. It seemed that Pony had made plenty of friends in New York.

"Good. I was worried about those two…never got a straight answer about what exactly was going on down there, but they were good workers and your little brother saved my daughter. He's a good kid, Ponyboy."

"Saved your daughter?" I asked, blinking in confusion. Ponyboy hadn't mentioned that. Then again, he hadn't mentioned much at all about his life in New York.

"Twice, actually. His first day here, apparently, or close to it, some boy had her cornered in an alley and he stepped in. He came to our church and she recognized him, then he came in to apply for a job with Johnny. A lot of people at our church thought he was going to cause trouble…a couple of white boys came to our church a few months ago and set off firecrackers during the service. But your little brother just sat through the service. Seemed to like it." I had to smile.

"Yeah. We used to go with our parents, and after they died, Ponyboy kept going for a while."

"The second time he saved her was in the store." He told me quietly, his voice turning real serious. "A couple of those same white boys came into the store and were trying to cause trouble. Your brother beat the crap out of one of them…if it hadn't been for his friend stopping him, I think he might have killed him. He was pretty out of it…went home in a daze."

That didn't sound like my little brother…Ponyboy didn't do stuff like that…didn't lose his temper and beat people half to death. Heck, usually I had to help him out in rumbles. "Was he…was he okay later?" I asked, a pit in my stomach. If he was losing it like that…beating the crap out of people and then not seeming to remember any of it…something could be wrong with him.

"He seemed okay the next day. Of course, after that, those boys were after your brother and Johnny and jumped them a couple of times." I closed my eyes, running a hand over my face. "I suppose he didn't tell you this." Mr. Williams asked quietly.

"We haven't gotten much of a chance to talk."

"He's a good kid, both of them…not a lot of white boys around here would work for a black man and go to a black church. It sure didn't make them popular, but to tell you the truth, they didn't even seem to notice. My nephew and some of his friends were looking after them there at the end…anyway, I didn't mean to keep you on the phone. I just wanted to make sure those two got home okay. I can call back some other time if that's alright…I'd like to talk to them."

"Sure…that's fine." I told him, struggling to process everything. "I…I really appreciate everything you did for them, Mr. Williams. If you hadn't hired them…I don't know how they would have gotten by." The words weren't good enough. He'd been kind to two kids off the street who'd asked him for jobs with no experience. He'd looked out for them and let them come to church with him and his family. "Thank you. For all of it. For looking after my little brother."

"You're doing a good job with him." He told me softly. "He went through a lot from what little they told me…I saw his arms. But he still tried to protect a girl he didn't even know."

"Thank you." I murmured, rubbing at my eyes. "I'll let them know you called…he's asleep right now, but as soon as he wakes up I'll tell him. Johnny too." I hung up the phone, running a hand through my hair and leaning back in the recliner. So that was their boss…I felt like I hadn't said enough…hadn't thanked him enough. But I couldn't get myself to focus on that…not yet. Not until Ponyboy was okay and I got him checked out by a doctor and got custody. Then I could figure out how to thank Mr. Williams and James too.

Officer Charlton called me back after about two hours, letting me know that I would be able to take Ponyboy to the doctor even though I didn't have custody considering our circumstances. He also told me that a member of social services would be coming by sometime this week. I would need to tell Pony...I'd need to tell him a lot of things. Glory, we had a lot to talk about. Sodapop would need to be there for that conversation too. He gave me the number of the social worker and told me to call sometime the next day. I needed to start making to-do lists.

Sodapop got home around six, checking on Pony first thing, then drilled me on everything that had happened. With Steve there, I left out some of it, but Steve would find out most of it eventually. Besides, he was one of the gang, and even though him and Pony didn't always get along, the two of them were like family, same as the rest of us. Steve hung around for about an hour, then headed home, telling us he hoped 'the kid feels better soon.'

At around 8:30 I made burgers for a late dinner, and when I was done, Sodapop finally woke Ponyboy up, not able to take it anymore. We were both real worried since he'd been asleep for most of the day, and when he came stumbling out of the bathroom, rubbing his eyes and dressed in pajamas with wet hair, I grinned, throwing my arm around his shoulder. "Hey there, kiddo. How do you feel?"

"Alright…kind of weird." He admitted, blinking around the room. "I didn't dream or nothing…it's like I closed my eyes and all of a sudden it was nighttime."

"Think you'll be able to sleep tonight?" I asked, leading him toward the kitchen table where he sat in his usual spot.

"Yeah. I'm still tired." I pushed a burger toward him and Soda started eating almost before he sat down. Grinning, I passed him a napkin I was relieved when Pony ate all the food we put in front of him, hoping he was starting to get his appetite back. I took a bite of my burger, then sat it down, turning to face Ponyboy.

"Someone called for you while you were asleep." I told him. He put his food down, looking up at me with wide, almost scared eyes.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Yeah. A Mr. Williams." The fear left his eyes, leaving just surprised.

"Oh…oh. Really? I mean…he asked for my number. To make sure me and Johnny got home okay."

"That's what he said. Sounds like a nice guy."

"Yeah. He was great…should have fired me, probably, with all the work I missed." He gave a rueful grin, looking back down at his food.

"Sounds nicer than my boss." Soda told him, punching him in the shoulder. Ponyboy chuckled, rubbing his arm and taking another bite of his burger. "Maybe he'll call back tomorrow and you can talk to him."

"Yeah, maybe." Pony turned to me. "You work tomorrow?" He asked with the air of someone expecting the answer to be 'yes.' I shook my head.

"Nope. I'm off." He lifted his eyebrows but didn't comment. Soda looked like he was about to say something but let it go when I gave him a look.

"Me too." He said instead. "What did the cop say about all this? When's the hearing?"

"We're not sure yet. In the meantime, Pony, we need to take you to the doctor. Get you checked out to make sure everything's okay." My little brother didn't look thrilled with the idea, but he didn't seem to want to argue either. "Officer Charlton called and gave me the go-ahead to take you." He just nodded, staring down at his empty plate, looking kind of sick all of a sudden. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but Soda got there first, throwing an arm around our brother.

"It's gonna be fine, Pone. Just a quick checkup, in and out." I didn't know if that was true, but our brother looked cheered by it, so I just nodded when he glanced at me. I hoped it was true. I didn't think Ponyboy could take any surprises at the moment, and neither could I. As for the meeting with the social worker, I'd leave that until tomorrow.

 ** _Thank you for reading and Merry Christmas everyone! :)_**


	46. Check Up

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and read this story so far. I appreciate it so much :)**

Check-Up

I woke up early the next day, blinking at the dim light coming in through the curtain. There was a weight on my side and it took me a moment to realize it was Sodapop's arm. I smiled a little, feeling more rested than I had in what felt like months. Soda was breathing softly behind me, his arm tight around my side. We'd gone to bed not long after dinner, even though I'd slept most of the day. I knew Darry and Soda were real worried, but I'd felt like I was in a daze, even after sleeping for so long. Telling that cop and Darry everything had been rough, and I hadn't wanted to face anyone afterward. But now…now I was awake. Really awake. Last night, Soda and I had laid down, his arm around me immediately. "Are you okay?" He'd asked, his voice soft.

"Yeah. I'm just real tired...don't know why." He'd just rubbed circles on my back.

"Don't worry about it...just get some more rest." I'd hummed in agreement, closing my eyes and letting myself fall back into sleep.

I tried to remember the day before…what little of it I'd been awake for. I'd talked to Officer Charlton but I didn't want to think about that. Darry had told me that Mr. Williams had called. I needed to talk to Johnny…tell him that he'd called us. Maybe we could both talk to him. And I wanted to talk to the guys too. Even Steve. I hadn't really gotten the chance yet. And apparently, I had to go to the doctor, which would involve showing someone my arms and my back too, most likely. And my brothers would probably be in the room. I didn't want that…even thinking about it made my chest seize up and I scooted closer to Soda who tightened his grip on me, muttering in his sleep.

There was still the question of custody, too. But the cop had assured me that even if Darry didn't get custody right away, I would still be allowed to visit with my brothers. I guess that's what's important. Or so I kept telling myself as I stared at the window. I don't think I'd had any nightmares the night before. I couldn't remember dreaming at all. I knew I should get up and get started on breakfast but I was so comfortable. Instead, I pulled the blankets more snugly around me and closed my eyes, feeling my brother's arm around me and listening to his soft breathing. I'd wanted this so bad…I'd waited every day in that boy's home and thought about what it would be like to be with my big brothers again…to fall asleep knowing that I was safe and that my brothers loved me.

Soda mumbled something in his sleep and I relaxed beside him, so glad I was home. Even though we'd have to go through custody stuff and I'd have to go to the doctor and all that crap, but for now, I was home in my own bed with my brothers and everything was okay. Soda rolled over, lifting his arm off of me and curling up on his other side, taking most of my covers. I grunted, pulling them back to my side, grinning when he was left without anything. He groaned, feeling around for the covers that I wrapped myself in like a cocoon.

"Hey." He grumbled, shaking me, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "Share." He tugged on the blankets, making me laugh. He pulled the blankets until I was rolled over with them, then stole his half of the covers back, covering us both up. "How are you feeling, kiddo?" He asked, dropping back on his pillow and facing me.

"Fine. Did I have nightmares?"

"Didn't wake me if you did." He shrugged, glancing past me at the clock. "It's only seven." He grumbled. I hummed in agreement, closing my eyes once more and we managed to sleep for another hour until we heard Darry moving around in the kitchen. I stretched and then curled up in a ball under the covers, tugging at the long sleeves until they covered my wrists again. "You know Darry's going to try and get an appointment at the doctor, right?"

"I figured." He rubbed my shoulder over the blanket, smiling a little but looking worried.

"It'll be quick, kiddo. Then maybe we can catch up with the guys?"

"Sounds good." I told him, not quite meeting his eyes. That was ridiculous. Sodapop wouldn't ever hurt me…I didn't have to be afraid to meet his eyes. Still, it was hard. I just hoped it wouldn't always be. If he noticed, he didn't say anything about it, just lay back down, staring up at the ceiling for a minute. "I hope I get to stay." I murmured. "I mean…I know it'll be okay and I'll still get to see you guys…but I really hope I get to stay."

"Me too." He murmured, closing his eyes. "I really hope you get to stay too."

The door to our bedroom opened and I tensed a little, hating the ingrained reaction. I hated it. I hated that my body was still afraid, even though I knew I was safe. Darry knocked on our door a little as he opened it, peeking inside. "You two up?"

"Eh." Soda answered, and I grinned, pulling the covers up over my head. Darry chuckled, coming into the room and tugging the covers off of us, leaving me shivering.

"Hey!" I snapped, and he ruffled my hair.

"No way you're cold." He sat on the bed beside me, hand still on my head. "How do you feel, Pone?"

"Fine." I sat up and scooted up to the head of the bed, and Soda followed suit, sitting cross-legged and leaning against the pillows. His knee pressed against my leg and it was comfortable and familiar and I'd missed them so much.

"Nightmares?"

I shrugged. "Not that I can remember."

"Well, that's something, I guess." He ruffled my hair one last time and stood up. "Breakfast is ready. I talked to the Officer Charlton this morning and they made an appointment for you at 10:00, so we can get it over with early."

"Sure." I muttered, following him into the kitchen still in pajamas. Sodapop stayed behind to get dressed and joined us after a minute, all of us eating our eggs in relative silence until the door was thrown open, slamming against the wall. I flinched, nearly dropping my fork, and Darry's jaw clenched.

"Stop. Slamming. The. Door!" He snapped, his voice angrier than usual, and there was dead silence for a minute as Steve entered the kitchen, wide-eyed.

"Sorry." He told our brother, his voice more incredulous and almost amused than really sorry. Darry gave him a look and he shrugged, grabbing a cake from the refrigerator and cutting himself a piece. "What's up his ass?" He asked Soda in a voice just a little too loud to be a whisper, and I thought Darry might slug him. Soda grabbed his arm, tugging him away from the table and into our bedroom. Lifting my eyebrows, I met Darry's eyes.

After a moment of silence, I gestured toward where Steve and Soda had disappeared. "So are you gonna go after him and beat him up or…?" He rolled his eyes but seemed a little bit sorry.

"Didn't mean to scare you." Was all he said.

"Wasn't my head you bit off."

"One day they're gonna break that damn door." He grumbled, but I had a feeling it had more to do with the fact that I'd been scared. I waited for him to take a bite, then spoke.

"Wasn't his fault. I can't help it…happens every time I hear a loud noise now." I told him quietly, ears hot as I stared down at my plate, not sure why I was admitting this out loud. Then again, if anyone would still have any respect for me despite the fact that I'd turned into a big baby, it was Darry. Sodapop too, but he was busy talking to Steve. "That's how he used to come home when he was drunk…which was most nights. And he'd beat on Rita's door…" I trailed off, staring at my food, appetite gone. Darry reached out, a gentle hand on my back, but he didn't say anything. "I ain't scared of Steve or nothing. Just can't help it."

"You ain't gotta help it." He told me quietly. "You ain't gotta be sorry, neither. It's not your fault." He assured me. I nodded accepting that he believed that and tried to take another bite of my eggs. "You want something else?"

"Nah…I'm gonna go get dressed," I muttered, managing a smile as I headed to our bedroom.

Steve and Soda were just coming out of the bedroom as I was about to step inside, and I moved aside, letting them by. Steve didn't say anything, just clapped me on the shoulder as he walked by, and I shut the bedroom door behind me so I could change. I could hear them talking in the other room though. "What's he gotta go to the doctor for?" Steve demanded.

I knew my brothers were trying to keep their voices down, but I could still hear Darry giving him the short version of what I'd told the cop. I appreciated him keeping the worst parts to himself, just telling Steve that I'd been hurt pretty bad and that I hadn't been eating enough. I felt like I'd been eating more in New York and at home, but I guess you couldn't reverse the damage that quick.

"The kid's fine." Steve sounded mad when he said it, and I went into the bathroom to fix my hair. "So he needs to eat more…he's fine."

"The social services people would have made him go to the doctor and get checked out either way. I'd rather take him than make him go with strangers." I greased my hair back, sighing when I looked at myself in the mirror and tracing the scar that went down my face and wishing it would fade faster. I brought up a finger and touched it, wincing at the feel of the uneven skin.

"That still hurt?" I jumped a little when Steve appeared in the doorway.

"No," I told him, dropping my hand.

"What happened?"

"One of Richard's friends got me with a bottle."

"That what all the blood was from?"

"That and my side. Another one got me with a blade." He hummed, nodding and looking up at my hair.

"Guess you can't dye it back. And you'd look real stupid without any hair…suppose we'll have to get used to it." I grunted, giving my reflection a look of distaste. "It helps when you grease it back." He reached out, patting my shoulder. "And, uh…I didn't mean to freak you out." He shrugged, uncomfortable.

"Wasn't your fault. Everything freaks me out now. Cigarettes. Belts. Damn doors slamming…" I swore under my breath, shaking my head, and he put the hand back on my shoulder, his face real serious.

"Hell, kid, if I'd gone through what you have, everything would freak me out too. And I ain't a big fan of belts either to tell you the truth. My old man's taken one to me one too many times." For a second we were both quiet, equally comfortable and uncomfortable. "You gotta go to the doctor…at least social services ain't gonna be there."

"Yeah. They're coming by sometime, though. No way they're just gonna leave us alone."

"Don't worry too much about it, kid." I tried not to as Darry got dressed and we all got ready to leave. I tried not to worry as Steve got comfortable on the couch and my brothers and I piled into the truck. I tried not to worry as we drove to the doctor's office where we'd all gone ever since we were kids, and as we sat in the waiting room, me in the middle of my brothers wondering why they were both with me.

I hadn't been to the doctor but once since my parents had died, and Darry had been the one to bring me since he was my guardian. Before, it had always been Mom or Dad. I wasn't sure why Soda was with us…but I didn't want to hurt his feelings by asking. Instead, I turned to him in the waiting room while Darry flipped half-heartedly through a magazine. Sodapop's leg was bouncing up and down and he was picking at his nails, a sure sign he'd rather be somewhere else. "You ain't gotta stay if you don't want, Soda. It won't take long, and Steve's probably got plans for you guys, right?" Despite my best intentions, Soda flinched.

"I don't care to stay, Pone. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine." I told him, hating that I'd hurt his feelings but not wanting him there. I didn't want him to break down…because if he broke down, I would, and then I didn't know if I'd be able to put myself back together. It was different with Darry who was quiet and, when I'd been crying, had been real strong. Soda was strong too, but not when it came to me.

"You want me to go?" He asked, and even if Richard himself had been in the room holding a gun to my head, I couldn't have said 'yes.' Instead, I grinned, trying to wipe all the anxiety off my face.

"No, course not, Soda. I just thought you and Steve might have plans or something. Didn't want to make you late or anything." He relaxed then, buying it.

"Nope. I'm free all day, kiddo." He reached out, ruffling my hair and laughing when I tried to dodge, punching him in the arm. The nurse gave us kind of a nervous look like me might be about to have a wrestling match in the waiting room or something, so we quit, him putting an arm around me real quick and squeezing. I caught Darry giving me a kind of weird look, but he just looked back down at his magazine before I could ask.

When the nurse called me back, we all got up, Darry trailing behind me and Soda as the lady asked for my birthdate and then led us back to a room with a scale. It was a small room so Soda waited in the hall while I stepped on the scale. She moved the little thing on top until it balanced out, the arrow pointed to 98 pounds. Darry's jaw was tight when she said it out loud, and he put an arm around me as she led us to the other room where I sat down and she took my blood pressure, reading off the numbers and writing them down. "Is that okay?" Darry asked before I could get up.

Her professional, calm demeanor cracked a little, and she smiled just a bit, softening. "Yes. His blood pressure is within the normal range." She assured us, leading us to a third room where I was instructed to sit on a bed covered in paper while Darry and Sodapop got chairs. I dangled my feet off the side as we waited for the doctor with my brothers shooting me worried looks.

"I feel fine." I told them, swinging my feet and kicking the base of the table with my heels. Darry gave me a look and I quit, keeping them still.

"We know. It's just to make sure you're doing okay." Sodapop told me. "There's a drag race tonight…you guys wanna come?" He asked, elbowing Darry who grinned a little.

"What do you think?" Darry asked, turning to me. "You feel up to it?"

"Sure!" I told them, my spirits lifted for just a moment, up until there was a knock on the door and the doctor stepped in.

He was a short guy, flipping through a packet of paper that I assumed had my information and life story on it. He'd know. He'd know about all of it. He'd look at my arms and my back and I'd known this was coming but I still didn't want it. Darry and Soda would see all of it…they'd know that I'd stood there while a man had taken a belt to me. They'd know that I was a coward who hadn't even fought back. "Mr. Curtis?" They'd know what Richard had done…how he'd made me into a different person and that no matter how hard I was trying, they'd know I was afraid that I'd never be the same again.

A hand touched my arm and I jerked back so hard that I almost fell off the metal bed, cringing away from the hand that reached out to catch me. "Pony!" Soda was at my side in a second, gripping my shoulders and looking scared. I thought of the time I'd nearly killed those guys at Mr. Williams' store and felt sick. Was this gonna start happening now? I'd thought it was a one-off thing…back when I'd lived with Richard, I'd been able to control it somewhat. He'd start hitting me and my mind would leave. Now it was leaving and I wasn't making it happen.

Darry was out of his chair, both of my brothers between me and the doctor who'd reached out to touch me. "What's wrong, kiddo?" Darry asked, his voice real quiet like he was keeping the doctor out of our conversation.

"I…sorry…I didn't…" I blinked rapidly, trying to focus again. "Sorry." I settled on that word, shaking my head. "Sorry."

"You ain't gotta be sorry." Soda assured me quietly, squeezing my shoulders. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I nodded, staring down at my lap, then glancing up at the doctor. He was waiting patiently, looking a little guilty.

"I'm sorry about that, Ponyboy. I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine." It wasn't his fault. It was mine. But hopefully, we could all ignore what had just happened. Darry went back to his seat, but Sodapop leaned against the wall beside my bed, staying close while the doctor pulled out a stethoscope.

"I read your file. The state of Oklahoma currently has custody of your brother, but he's staying with you for the moment. Is that correct?"

"Yeah." Darry nodded his head.

"It also said there was some abuse in a previous foster home." He looked at me for that one. Abuse. That's what I was now…a kid that had been abused.

"That's right," Darry answered for me, his tone a little harsh. It wasn't the doctor's fault, though, and I felt kind of bad for the guy who was trying to tiptoe around it. No reason he should feel guilty."

"The foster father beat on all of us," I told him, and Darry's head swung to me. "All the kids in the house."

"Yes…you are the only foster child of Mr. Norris who is still underage." I nodded. "It says very little in your file about the actual abuse, only that the foster father was arrested." I nodded. "Today we're just going to do a check-up to see what kind of physical shape you're in. You don't have to talk about any of it if you don't want to." I was glad to hear it, because I sure didn't plan on talking about it.

He checked my lungs first, a stethoscope against my back as he instructed me to breathe in and out. Soda stayed beside me, leaning on the wall, and Darry watched the doctor like a hawk, eyes narrow as he followed all of his movements. He took my pulse and my temperature, then had me lay back and pressed his hands against my stomach and my sides, pausing when I flinched, my whole body recoiling when his hands hit a sore spot.

He looked worried then, dropping his hands. "How long have you been away from Mr. Norris?"

"A few months." I told him. He glanced back at Darry.

"Any bruising should have faded by now…" He hesitated, holding out a hand to help me up. I took it after a second. "Could you remove your shirt so that I can get a look…see if there's any bruising."

I wanted to say no. It had worked with the cop. But one look at Darry told me that this wasn't going to work with a doctor. He looked kind of sorry, but also firm. I wasn't gonna get any help there. Sodapop pushed off the wall and put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. "You okay?" He asked softly, leaning in. I nodded, wishing the floor would open up and that I could disappear.

I waited for him to take a step back and lifted my shirt over my head, flinching when Soda made a noise behind me. I stared down at the floor, refusing to look up, hands shaking in my lap. He swore under his breath, and I heard Darry muter something. Soda went quiet then, and the doctor just stood there for a moment. "Was all of that from Richard?"

"Uh, no…a couple of guys jumped me a week or two ago." It still looked real bad…but it didn't hurt as much unless I poked them. The bruises covered both sides of my ribs, wrapping around to my stomach.

"You said it wasn't that bad." Soda all but snapped.

"I said they got Johnny worse than me." I corrected, managing a half smile at the floor. "Also, I lied." I could almost feel Soda glaring at me but still didn't look up.

"I didn't hear any trouble in your breathing…have you had any problems?"

"No…doesn't even hurt unless I touch it."

"And the scars on your arms…from cigarettes?"

"Yeah…I don't smoke anymore." I offered.

"Well, that's good for your lungs at least." The doctor sighed, reaching out a hand and touching my wrist. I let him take it, his finger running over one of the burns. "None of them are infected. It looks like you took care of them."

"Alcohol." I told him simply.

"And your side?" I'd taken off the bandage on my side the night before after my shower, revealing a scab covering the deep cut on my side right below my ribs.

"It got infected, but I think it's okay now." He nodded, taking a closer look for a moment, and I accidentally caught a look at Sodapop's face. He was glaring at the floor, jaw so tight I was waiting for his teeth to break. I dropped my eyes again, hating that they were wet all of a sudden. I didn't blame him for being mad at me. I'd lied to him. About something big. More than once. I hadn't called them for days after those guys had jumped us because I was so scared they'd find out. And now then knew pretty much all of it. And Soda was mad.

The doctor turned to my brother, taking a seat at the counter where he wrote in my chart. "Your brother is underweight, but not severely. Otherwise, he is in pretty good physical condition. The bruising should fade in a few weeks, and as long as he isn't having any trouble breathing, it's nothing to worry about. Take over the counter medicine for any pain, and try to take it easy for a few days." He said, turning to me. "No roughhousing, and it would be best if you didn't take up smoking again."

"Don't worry…that ain't gonna happen." I told him, my voice kind of dry as I pulled my shirt back on.

"Doctor, when he was in that house, that foster father beat him real bad…one time he said he couldn't stand up and he was peeing blood." The doctor nodded slowly.

"Is there still any blood in your urine?" He asked me, and I shook my head.

"No…it only lasted for about a week."

"It sounds like your kidneys were bruised. Those can heal on their own with lots of rest. We can run some tests to make sure there's no permanent damage." I wanted to say no, but Darry nodded.

"Yeah. Run the tests." He stood up, bypassing Soda who I was ignoring and putting a hand on my arm. "Don't give me that look." He scolded gently. "I gotta make sure you're okay." He squeezed my arm, hugging me a little and looking shaken. So I peed in the cup, gave them my blood, then headed home with Darry and an increasingly irritable-looking Sodapop where we would wait for the results which, according to the doctor, ought to come in a day or two.

As soon as we got to the house, Soda stomped out to the back porch, and before Darry could stop me, I followed him. "Pone…" Darry called, but I let the door shut behind me and hovered in front of the back door, arms crossed. Soda was leaning against the rail and I wiped at my eyes, hating every bit of this.

"I'm sorry, Soda." I offered, my voice barely there. "I…I shouldn't have lied to you. I mean…I just didn't know how…"

Soda spun on his heels, and for a second, the irrational thought that he as going to hit me went through my head. But of course he didn't…instead he threw his arms around me, his face hidden in my shoulder. I put a hesitant hand on his back, and then he was sobbing, whimpering into my shirt. "Pony…" He shook his head, and I held him tight, feeling my own eyes start to tear up, my forehead resting on his shoulder. "Your back…and your arms and…I couldn't do anything. I couldn't…I didn't protect you. You're my baby brother and he…he hurt you so bad and…I didn't do anything." I exhaled, slumping against him and smiling a little. At least he wasn't mad at me.

"You couldn't have done anything, Soda." I rubbed his back, pulling away and giving him a half smile. "None of it was your fault." He just pulled me close again, one hand on the back of my head and the other on my back, arms tight around me like he was protecting me now from the things that had happened months ago. "I'm sorry I lied to you." I murmured. He shook his head but didn't answer, holding me on our porch until Darry stepped outside. Our big brother stayed in the doorway for a second, then put his arms around both of us. "I'm sorry." I whispered, and Darry squeezed us both tighter.

 ** _Thank you so much for reading!_**


	47. Races

**_Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed, and Happy New Year! I hope that 2018 brings you all health and happiness, and I look forward to writing throughout the year :)_**

Races

Johnny came over with Dallas around noon, both of them looking for lunch. Steve had gone off somewhere while we were at the doctor but he trailed along after them. Darry made chicken and Johnny joined me on the couch. Thankfully, both Sodapop and I had managed to pull ourselves together, him taking a shower and me washing my face to get our faces to look less like we'd been crying. Didn't exactly make us look tough. Dally ruffled my hair roughly, knocking me back against the couch. "Hey kid." He greeted on his way to the kitchen where Darry was still cooking. Soda chuckled, watching him go.

Steve caught the front door before it could slam shut, giving me a wide-eyed look as he kept an eye out for Darry. I pointed at the kitchen and he let the door shut gently. "What have you been up to?" I asked Johnny as Steve and Sodapop headed out onto the back porch, probably to talk. I didn't want to talk anymore. Not about me or Richard or any of it.

"Been at home, mostly. Looking for a job."

"Yeah?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Thought it'd be nice to have some money for once." I chuckled.

"Yeah, think Darry would let me get one too?"

"No way!" He snorted. "Not for another year."

"Well, if you get a job, put in a good word for me in a year, would you?"

"Sure." He glanced around, making sure we were alone. "What's going on? You slept all day yesterday…you feeling any better?"

"Yeah…went to the doctor this morning. Had to have tests and stuff, but apparently I'm gonna live." He grinned. "Got to wait for the tests, and I've got to gain weight. Feel fine though."

"Good."

"Sodapop was pretty freaked." I told him softly. I didn't mind telling Johnny. He wouldn't go blabbing to anyone. "I thought he was mad, you know…since I lied to him about us getting jumped by those guys. He wasn't though."

"Heck, I could have told you that. No way he'd be mad at you." I shrugged a little and he nudged me. "I don't know if Sodapop _could_ get mad at you."

I grinned. "Yeah? Remember when I drew all over his homework?"  
"You were what, six?" He laughed.

"Okay, remember last year when I got us caught sneaking home after a rumble and we were both grounded?"

"Well…that was…"

"Remember when you and me stole that booze from Dally and him and Soda found us passed out in the lot?"

"Okay he wasn't really mad…he was more worried that time." Johnny laughed, glancing around to make sure Darry hadn't heard. It had been right before my parents had died, but Darry would still be pissed if he heard we'd pulled a stunt like that. Dally had been real mad, and it had only been Sodapop that had kept him from beating the shit out of us. Instead he'd dragged me home and thrown me into bed, giving me aspirin in the morning and warning me that if I ever did something stupid like that again, he'd knock my block off.

"Who was worried?" Sodapop asked, stepping into the living room, scratching the back of his head and dropping onto the sofa beside us.

"Nobody. Johnny's been looking for a job." I told him, hoping to distract him.

"No." He told me simply.

"What?"

"No, you aren't getting a job."

"I said Johnny…"

He grinned. "Yeah, I heard you. But I wanted to put a stop to it before you got any bright ideas. You ain't getting a job, not until you're at least sixteen. Maybe not even then." Johnny snorted, nudging me.

"Told you." He told me.

"I didn't ask…"

"You did earlier." I glared at him for ratting me out and Soda patted me on the back.

"Mr. Williams called." I told him, trying to change the subject again.

"Really?" He perked up a little.

"Yeah. When I was asleep yesterday. Darry answered. Mr. Williams said he'd call back."

"How do you think the rumble went?" Johnny asked, scooting against the back of the couch, arms crossed. "Anyone heard from James."

"Nope." I shook my head. "I hope it went alright…" He grunted with a nod.

"How are things at home?" Sodapop asked him, keeping his hand on my shoulder like he thought I was going to disappear. Maybe he thought I was…maybe it wasn't irrational. The social workers were going to come visit soon, and they might take me away.

"Fine." Johnny shrugged. "They barely noticed I was gone. Ain't said much to me since I've been home."

"You can stay here anytime you want, you know that right?"

"Thanks Sodapop." Johnny grinned, laughing when Soda reached out and ruffled his hair.

They hung around the rest of the day, Steve and Soda heading outside to mess with the truck after a little while. Darry went into the kitchen after a while to make some dinner and Dallas went with him, the two of them talking about football or something. Johnny had I had rifled through my bookshelf, finding some stuff to read. We could have gone to the library, but neither of us wanted to leave my house. I felt safe here. I was with my brothers.

The phone rang a few minutes after Darry and Dal went into the kitchen and Johnny and I both froze, staring at it wide eyed until Darry showed up, clapping me on the shoulder then grabbing the phone. "Hello?" He answered, looking defensive already. Dallas leaned in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. Johnny and I glanced at each other, the books in our laps. "Yes, this is." Dally shot Johnny and me a look and I shrugged. "Okay." He paused for a second, then nodded, saying okay a few more times and looking relieved. After a minute, he smiled a little. "Good. Okay, thank you. Okay…bye." He hung up the phone, running a hand through his hair. "The doctor." He explained.

"Yeah?" I asked as Dallas headed back into the kitchen.

"Said the tests came back normal." He explained, reaching out and gripping my shoulder. He'd lowered his voice some, but I didn't care if Johnny heard. "You just need to gain some weight, but with Sodapop making cakes everyday, I don't think that'll be a problem." He chuckled.

"Will they tell the people from the State too?" His happiness seemed to die at the reminder and I hated myself for it, dropping my eyes.

"I'm gonna call Officer Charlton…let him know what they said. They'll probably tell the State too." He told me quietly, pulling his hand back.

"I'll tell Soda." I offered, standing up and trying to force a grin. Johnny jumped up, trailing after me as we headed out to the driveway where Steve was doing a backflip off of the hood of the truck while Soda sat on the ground, laughing and jumping to his feet and about to climb up on the hood to try. I waited, leaning against the porch and watching my brother jump backwards off the hood, hoping Darry didn't happen to glance outside and have a heart attack. He was always telling Steve and Soda they were gonna bust their heads open.

"You wanna try?" Steve called, hands in his pockets. Soda's eyes went real wide and he shook his head.

"No way." I snorted.

"Better not." I crossed my arms and leaned on the truck, Johnny shoving his own hands in his pockets, both of us facing Steve and Soda. "Doctor called. Said everything was fine." I told Soda who grinned, running a hand over his face then gripping my shoulder.

"Good." That was all he could say…I knew he was thinking about what kind of shape I was in…my back and my arms…I looked like a walking skeleton someone had tried to beat to death. And I hated it.

"Darry's calling that cop to tell him." Soda just nodded, but Steve cut in.

"What about the State? They gonna come here or what?"

"Sometime this week." Soda told him, dropping his hand and sobering. Before we could talk anymore about that, Dallas came out with an old football in his hand, grinning at me and nodding. I hesitated for a second, then held out my hands, catching the pass he flung to me, then taking off. Soda laughed behind me, and I heard him right on my heels. I made it to the fence then threw the ball to Johnny who was there, ready to catch it. The teams established without us even having to talk about it, we played, tackling each other until Darry called us in for dinner, shaking his head at how dirty we'd all gotten, but not scolding. As I walked by, he squeezed my shoulder, smiling a little and pointing me toward the bathroom.

After dinner, we all drove to the racetrack, me riding with Darry and Johnny while Dal, Two-Bit, and Soda rode with Steve. I sat in the middle of the truck between them, picking at my nails until Darry put his hand over mine to stop me. "You sure you're up for this Pone?" Darry asked, pulling into the parking lot that was crammed full of cars. We managed to find a spot in the back while I assured Darry that I was fine. Johnny jumped out of the truck, me following right behind him as we walked through the parking lot and toward the track.

Soda and Steve walked up ahead with Darry, Dal and Two-Bit chatting behind them, and me and Johnny brought up the rear. My brothers glanced back at me pretty often as we made our way through the field packed with cars. I ignored them, talking with Johnny instead and wishing things would go back to normal sooner rather than later. I knew they were worried…and I guess they had a reason to be. But I didn't want to think about that. Johnny asked how I was and I told him I was fine, then he thankfully moved on to wondering out loud how things were going in New York and telling me about the places he'd applied for jobs.

Usually when we all hung out, I did more talking, sometimes even talking for Johnny when someone asked us something. He didn't mind…he was pretty quiet usually, and I wasn't exactly chatty unless it was with Sodpop or just Johnny by himself, but now he was talking more than me, looking pretty at ease. I guess being away from his family and being by ourselves in a strange city had made him more confident or something. He was applying for jobs by himself and was walking around, not looking around for people who might beat us up or jump us. He wasn't as tall as me, but he was taller than before, and he laughed easily while he talked, standing up straight.

We stayed at the race for a couple of hours, Two-Bit and Steve betting on which cars were gonna win. Steve even got a guy to let him drive his Mustang and won a race against a socy looking guy that swore and acted like he wanted to start a fight after he lost, but there were too many greasers around. Darry stood up beside him, Soda on Steve's other side, and the soc backed off, swearing at him again and storming off while the other greasers laughed.

Steve was being pretty nice to me, which kind of freaked me out. I kept waiting for him to screw with me or say something about me tagging along, but he didn't make a single snarky comment all night. He even asked if Johnny and I wanted to ride along during one of his races, but Darry nixed that idea immediately, looking freaked out. I thanked him but told him Darry might have a heart attack. My brother knocked me in the back of my head, but threw his arm around me immediately after, holding me tight like he thought I might actually try to go with Steve. Instead, Dally rode along while Johnny and I watched from the sidelines, Sodapop grabbing a couple of cokes and passing them out.

Johnny stayed over that night, sleeping on the recliner. Steve stayed too, crashing on the sofa, and it was early when the phone rang, pulling me out of sleep. Soda had his arm around me once more…my brother hadn't wanted to let me go. Usually him and Steve would have gone out somewhere after the races, staying out until late and stumbling in sometime around two or three in the morning. But last night he'd come to bed with me at just before midnight, leaving Steve in the living room.

"You could have stayed out with Steve if you wanted to. Darry's here." I'd told him as I pulled the blankets up to my neck. He'd just thrown his arm around me. "I'm fine, Soda. Really. You ain't gotta babysit me or nothing." I hated that Soda thought he had to watch after me like this…that I was keeping him from doing what he wanted.

He'd rubbed my back, and I'd heard the smile in his voice. "What, you wanna get rid of me or something? Got a hot date?"

I'd snorted. "No, course not." He'd rolled over on his back then, sighing a little.

"I missed you so much, kiddo." My brother had murmured. "Glory, it was hard not having you here. Every morning I woke up…and it hit me all over again. That you were gone." I'd turned over, putting my arm around him, and he'd pressed his forehead to mine for a second before pulling away.

"I just…I don't want you to miss out of stuff because of me."

"I ain't missing out on anything, Pony. Things will get back to normal soon. Just…stay close for a little while, okay?" I'd grinned, nodding and staring up at the ceiling for a moment before closing my eyes and giving into sleep.

"I will."

The phone woke me at around six in the morning, and I groaned, rolling over, then standing up. Glancing at the clock that read 6:31, I found Steve and Johnny both covering their faces with pillows, trying to get away from the ringing, and picked it up. "Hello?" I answered, rubbing at my eyes.

"Is this Ponyboy?" The voice on the other line asked, and I felt the hair on my neck stand on end, wishing I'd let Darry answer.

"Who's this?" I asked, glancing at the sofa. Steve, catching my tone, sat up a little, rubbing his eyes and watching me. I was glad he was there. I mean, no one could hurt me over the phone, but it was still good to know someone was around to take over just in case.

"This is Mr. Williams."

"Oh." I sighed in relief, leaning against the wall by the recliner. Johnny pulled the pillow off his face, giving me a bleary, confused look. I knew he'd asked for our number and everything but I was kind of surprised that he kept trying to call. I figured he must really care about us. "Hi, Mr. Williams. This is Ponyboy." Johnny sat up at that, leaning in.

"Good morning, Ponyboy. I hope I didn't wake you. I wasn't sure of the time difference."

"Oh, no…I mean, yeah, but it's fine." I told him, honestly glad to hear from him.

"I spoke to your brother but he said you were asleep…is everything okay?"

"Yeah…everything's fine. We're all fine. Johnny's here too." I said when Johnny stood up, trying to hear what was going on.

"Good. I wanted to make sure the two of you were doing okay."

"Yeah…" I sat down on the arm of the recliner while Johnny sat back down beside me. "Is everything alright there?"

He hesitated before answering. "Sue was pretty upset when you two left without saying goodbye. Marcus too, but he understood better than she did." I winced at that. I really did feel bad. I'd been in such a hurry to get home I hadn't given her as much thought as I should have. She'd been real nice to us…gotten us that job. "As far as I can understand, him and your friend James fought with a couple of boys from the east side."

"They win?" I asked, glancing at Johnny who looked as worried as I did.

"Yeah…a couple of Marcus's friends got roughed up, but everyone's okay."

"Good." I looked over at Johnny who nodded, apparently having heard all of it. Steve was leaning in, keeping an eye on us, but his eyes were drooping, and it was obvious he wanted to go back to sleep. I wished we could have spoken to Marcus or one of the other guys, but it made sense they weren't there at…eight-thirty in the morning? I wondered if Sue was there but didn't ask. He told me anyway.

"Sue won't be in for a few hours…she wants to talk to the two of you, but I didn't know if you'd want me giving out your number."

"Uh…sure you can give it to her. That's fine." Johnny reached out for the phone and I nodded. "Hey, Johnny wants to talk to you."

"Of course." I passed the phone to Johnny and sat on the couch beside Steve who scooted over a little.

"Any news?" He asked, wiping his face and yawning.

"Not really…James and his guys won the rumble. That's about it." I shrugged. He gave me a kind of a weird look and I remembered that I hadn't told him about that. "Oh…uh…Johnny and I got jumped a few times…there were some guys making trouble for our boss and we got on their bad side. So James and our boss's nephew and some of his friends were gonna get together and have a rumble." He nodded at that, looking over me critically.

"They hurt you too bad?" I thought of the bruises wrapping around my ribs and shook my head. Steve had been real cool but I didn't want to risk any smart remarks.

"Nah."

Johnny talked to Mr. Williams for a few minutes, then held the phone out to me. I yawned, grabbing it and holding it to my ear. "Ponyboy?" He asked.

"Yes sir?"

"Are you boys sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." I thought about telling him about the doctor and the social workers, but we didn't know him _that_ well, so I just assured him that we were okay, and told him I'd call back sometime to talk to Sue and maybe the other guys. Then I went back into the bedroom, leaving Steve and Johnny in the living room and crawling back into the bed.

Soda grunted and rolled over, stilling when I pulled the blankets back over us. In some ways it still didn't feel real. I was home. It was all over…the boy's home and Richard's house and New York. I was home. I was with my family. For now, I got to stay with my brothers. I gripped Sodapop's shirt, scooting closer to him and resting my head on his shoulder. I was home. I was home. It was so wonderful to be home and safe…to be with people who cared about me.

Sodapop muttered something, blinking blearily at me. "Ponyboy? You okay?"

"Yeah." I assured him, scooting closer, and he put his arms around me, rubbing my back.

"You sure, kiddo?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." He hummed, not sounding like he believed me, but he let it go, closing his eyes, and we managed to sleep for another few hours before Darry came in and woke us up.

 ** _Thank you for reading. I think there will be...2 more chapters? I think? Who knows. I'm bad at planning :)_**


	48. The State

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! I appreciate it so much. I'm going to say...2 more chapters? Thank you all so much for the support and I hope you enjoy the new chapter. :)**_

 _The State_

Pony was curled up against me, one hand gripping my shirt, and I rubbed his back, blinking at the ceiling and listening to Darry moving around in the kitchen. He'd woken me up earlier, getting back into bed from wherever he'd been. I hadn't asked, but something seemed to have shaken him up, so I'd just stayed close until he'd fallen asleep, then I'd managed to get another hour or two before Darry had woken up and had started moving around in the other room. It sounded like he was making eggs.

Darry had to go to work today, but I was off. Steve had wanted to go out, but I didn't want to leave Pony. He'd been real good to Ponyboy since he'd come home, trying to include him in everything. He hadn't said anything about him tagging along to the drag races, even asking if he wanted to ride along for one of the races. Darry would have let him no matter what kind of shape he was in…heck, I don't think he'd want me doing it either. Still, it was nice of Steve to offer. And Pony had been real surprised…I think he was waiting for Steve to be a jerk but I don't think that was going to happen. Steve had missed my little brother. And I knew he was worried about him, since he was so skinny and didn't look too great.

Last night had been a lot of fun. It had been good to get out of the house, especially with Ponyboy along. We'd kept a pretty close eye on him, but Johnny had seemed to have it covered, the two of them walking together and talking quietly about things I couldn't hear. They'd seemed fine, though. New York had changed Johnny for the better, it seemed. He didn't flinch every time someone looked at him anymore, and he walked with his hands in his pockets, grinning easily without looking around to see if anyone was gonna jump him. He was more at ease…and I had a feeling that if something happened, him and Ponyboy would be able to hold their own.

I was still worried about Pony though. I guessed I'd always worry. He was my baby brother, and it was my job to look after him. And I knew sometimes he thought I was overprotective. But at the moment, I felt like I had the right to be. I kept remembering how he'd looked at the doctor's office. He hadn't wanted to take off his shirt. I'd seen Ponyboy without a shirt almost every day of his life. It wasn't like he was modest about it or nothing. But the second he'd taken it off, I'd known why he didn't want me seeing.

The bruises were faded purple and brown, starting up under his armpit and covering his whole right side, wrapping around his back and probably covering the side I couldn't see from where I stood by the wall. But the welts on his back were almost worse…they weren't red anymore. Just raised and paler than the skin around them…almost gray looking. There were so many of them, from the base of his neck to the top of his jeans. Darry hadn't seen them. He hadn't looked. He'd seen my face, though, and that had been close enough. He'd gone real pale, looking down at his feet instead of meeting my eyes.

His ribs stuck out, he was so thin, and he looked like a good shove might do him in. I tightened my arm around him, still rubbing his back. We'd get him some more food, maybe some of those protein bars Darry ate back in high school, and he'd be fine. The bruises would fade. We all got bruised up sometimes. And the scars that covered his arms and the scars that covered his back…well…they'd fade. Right? They'd fade and we wouldn't have to think about any of it anymore.

Darry dropped something in the kitchen and Pony mumbled beside me, rolling over and moving closer. I held him tight and he settled, taking a deep breath and sighing, his head against my shoulder. I remembered the days when he was gone again. I remembered waking up morning after morning, reaching out to shake my brother awake. I remembered jerking awake in the middle of the night, worried something was wrong or that he was having a nightmare, and he wasn't there.

"Soda? You up?" Darry asked, poking his head in and scratching at his head.

"Yeah." I muttered, my arm tight around Pony.

"He have any nightmares?" He asked, lowering his voice and crossing his arms, looking over at our brother.

"Nope. Slept through the night."

"You staying home today?" He wondered. He hadn't asked me to stay home, but I knew he wanted me to. He didn't have to ask.

"Yeah, I'll stick close by. Steve will probably come over if he isn't still here."

"He's on the couch. Johnny split a few minutes ago." He reached out, ruffling Pony's hair and our brother groaned, swatting at him. Darry chuckled, ruffling my hair too. "Shake a leg, kiddo." He called to Ponyboy. "Breakfast is ready."

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah, kiddo. Breakfast. You know, first meal of the day. Usually eggs. Sometimes cake?"

"Cake?"

"Yeah, that got your attention." He snorted, tugging on Pony's arm, and I laughed, rolling out of the way. "I made eggs but we got cake too." He shook Pony who tried to swat him away again, but missed since his eyes were closed. "Come on. You can have both. Wake up." He shook him again and Pony opened his eyes, managing a bleary glare before taking Darry's hand and letting him pull him up. Darry patted him on the back, an arm around his shoulder leading him into the kitchen while I jumped into the shower.

When I got out, Pony and Steve were both at the table, both eating pieces of chocolate cake, their eggs untouched. I grabbed Pony's plate of eggs, adding jelly and taking a bite. I'd eat cake later. "Where'd Johnny go?" I wondered. Steve shrugged.

"Said he had somewhere to be."

"Where's he been hanging out, Pony?" I asked, kicking him under the table. Pony swallowed his cake and kicked me back.

"Looking for a job, I guess." I shrugged. That much I knew.

"Didn't invite you along, did he?" Pony gave me a look as he took his empty plate to the sink. He gave Steve another look when he dropped his plate into the sink, splashing my brother with soapy water. I stepped in between them before Pony could retaliate and end Steve's friendly streak. Pony rolled his eyes but grinned a little and finished washing the dishes.

"One more year?" He asked.

"Maybe wait until you're 17." I ruffled his hair. "What do you wanna do today?"

"Ain't you and Steve got plans?"

"Glory, Pony, I'm gonna start think you don't want to hang out with me anymore." I was playing around, but honestly, I was kind of worried. Pony had been acting weird, not seeming to want me around much. And if that was true…why? Why wouldn't he want me around? Was he hiding something? Or did he blame me?

He grinned then, that same smile he kept giving me. It was starting to freak me out. "I just figured you and Steve would be doing something. You ain't gotta babysit me, Soda. I'm fine. You and Steve always go out on your days off."

"Not today." I shrugged. "So, what do you wanna do?"

"I don't know. Figured I'd try to find Johnny. Go to the library. Maybe catch up with Two-Bit if he's around."

"Sounds fun. Well…except for the library."

He snorted. "I might not go…I read so much in New York I was getting sick of it."

"You! Sick of reading?" I cried, putting my hand on my heart, the other on my mouth. He rolled his eyes but the laugh escaped.

"You suck at acting, Sodpop." I punched his shoulder and he pushed me away, so of course I retaliated, trying to get him into a headlock. He managed to wriggle away, making a break for the living room where I got a hold of him, tackling him to the carpet. He fought back hard, but I got him in a headlock, rubbing my knuckles over his head.

"Holler uncle!" I ordered, and he got me in the ribs with his elbow.

"No!" Steve snorted behind me from Darry's recliner, keeping one eye on us and one on the TV. Pony wasn't as strong as before…before he could usually hold his own in a wrestling match. I could tell from the look in Steve's eye that he knew it too.

"Go on! Holler uncle!" He tried to roll over, but I tightened my grip, laughing when he tried to get a hold of my hair. "Hey! Watch the hair!"

"Why? It's so…" Whatever insult he'd been about to throw at me died on his tongue when there was a knock at our front door.

Immediately I dropped my hold on him, catching him when he would have fallen flat on the floor. He looked up at me, eyes wide and scared, and I pulled myself to my feet, pulling him up too. Steve was on his feet, looking between me and the front door. Creeping to the front of the room, I peeked through the curtains and recoiled at the well-dressed woman with her graying hair in a bun at the back of her head. It was always women in their forties…women our mom's age. Glory I missed our mom so much it made me sick to my stomach. I glanced back at my little brother and shoved that away…no time for that. Instead, I gripped his shoulder.

"Get dressed." I ordered quietly. He obeyed without hesitating and I turned to Steve. "Get Darry." My buddy nodded, running through the back door.

Glancing around at the mostly clean living room, I pushed my hair back, thought about my dad, and opened the front door. The woman looked up from her clipboard and gave me a brief, professional smile. "Good morning. I'm Maura Rhodes. I'm from social services, and I'm here to speak to Darrel Curtis regarding his younger brother…are you Darrel?"

"I'm Sodapop…one of his brothers." I introduced myself, shaking his hand and remembering everything my dad had taught me about being polite to strangers who could ruin your life…I wasn't sure if he'd covered that one. Darry's at work right now, but I can call and get him home if you need to talk to him right now."

"I would appreciate that Sodapop. Would you mind if I stepped in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." I stepped back and gestured for her to come in.

"Is your other brother, Ponyboy, home?" She asked, glancing around the living room. To her credit, she didn't look disgusted or anything, just sat down on the sofa when I invited her to.

"Yeah. He's just getting dressed." I looked at our bedroom door, still closed, and hoped that was true. Picking up the phone, I dialed Two-Bit's house, figuring that was the best bet. Our buddy answered.

"Hey, Darry."

"Uh…Sodapop?" He asked, sounding somewhat concerned.

"Yeah, it's me. Hey Darry, the social worker is here. I know you're at work but do you think you could come back to the house?"

"Is Steve getting him? Is Pony okay?" Two-Bit demanded.

"Yeah, Steve is. And Pony's fine. See you in a few."

"Yeah." He hung up on me as our bedroom door was opening and I turned to find Ponyboy stepping out into the hallway, pale as he looked around for me. I hurried over to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

"It's okay. Darry's coming. It's gonna be fine." He nodded, following me into the living room. "This is Ponyboy." I introduced him. "Pony, this is Ms. Rhodes."

"Nice to meet you." He held out a hand that she shook, not seeming to notice how sick and scared he looked.

"Hello, Ponyboy. I'll be the primary social worker assigned to your case until you turn eighteen. I have been reviewing your case…have you been able to see a doctor since returning to your brother's care?"

"Yeah…yes ma'am. I went yesterday."

"Good. We can get a copy of your test results from your doctor. Sodpop, would it be possible for me to speak to your brother alone?" I hesitated, knowing I couldn't say no, but not wanting to leave him alone. Not with her.

"Hey, Pone, why don't you get her a glass of water, kiddo? Guess I forgot my manners." He gave me a doubtful look but nodded.

"Uh, sure. Yeah." He headed to the kitchen and I leaned in.

"He went to his social worker. When that man was hurting him…torturing him. He went to her office, and she took him back to that guy's house and he nearly killed him. Now, I know I can't say no…but please…just…he's my baby brother and…" I ran out of words, glancing back at the kitchen, eyes hot, as Ponyboy came back with a glass of ice water. She smiled, taking it and gesturing for him to have a seat in the recliner, which he did after a frightened look at me.

"I'll just be in the kitchen, Pony." I assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He nodded, the scared look wiping off his face, a bland smile taking over. I hated it, but left him in the living room with the stranger, siting down at our kitchen table and listening to the too-quiet murmuring in the other room.

Knowing it was wrong, I stood up, hovering in the doorway just out of sight and straining to hear. "Ponyboy, I know that your time in foster care was…difficult." I hate to bite back a snort. Difficult. If it wasn't so terrible and painful and sad, it would be funny. "I know that you have been let down by your previous social workers and foster families…and that your time in the boy's home was…not ideal."

"It was awful." Ponyboy told her, his voice hard. I flinched. I hated hearing him sound like that.

"I'm sorry." Her voice softened. "I really am. I've spoken to Officer Charlton on the phone and he told me what your brothers have been going through to get you back…and what you've gone through. I just need to ask you a few questions if that's okay."

"Yeah." He murmured, and I leaned in, trying to hear. I couldn't hear the first question, or his muttered answer, but I heard the next one.

"Ponyboy, do you want to stay with your big brother?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation. "Please…I just want to stay with Darry." I closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall and wiping at my eyes. My little brother shouldn't have to beg a social worker to be allowed to stay with his family.

"Let's talk about the incident that led to your being removed from your family last year." She suggested softly, and I moved away from the doorway, sitting back down at the table and wishing Darry would hurry up and get home.

It took him ten minutes, during which I sat in the kitchen and waited for that lady to stop talking to my brother and call me back in. When the front door was thrown open, I jumped up from the table and found Darry in the doorway, Steve and Two-Bit visible out on the sidewalk next to his badly parked truck. His eyes were wide and frightened when they met mine, but the expression dropped as soon as the social worker turned to him.

"Hi. Sorry. Darrel Curtis." He held out a hand, shaking hers.

"Maura Rhodes."

"I wasn't told when you'd be stopping by, but I was able to get an hour off work to meet with you when Sodapop told me you were here."

"I apologize for stopping by unannounced." She gestured to Pony who was still sitting on the couch, hands tight in his lap, jaw clenched. "Your younger brother and I were just talking." He nodded, throwing Pony a worried look. She noticed and stepped toward Darry. "If you'd both like to sit down, I just have a few questions."

I moved to Ponyboy's side and sat down beside him, throwing an arm around my little brother's shoulders. Pony managed to give me a half-hearted grin, and Darry sat on his other side. "Darrel, are you still employed full-time with the construction company?"

"Uh, yeah. I work there and at a warehouse part-time on weekends."

"And Sodapop, you dropped out of high school and are currently working full-time at a gas station?"

"Yes."

"Darrel, Ponyboy…left his foster family before finishing the semester, and with his grades he will need to repeat most of his classes. He will need to be enrolled in high school before the next semester, so you will need to go down to the school and speak to the principal, but I don't foresee that being a problem with his record." She flipped through the papers on her clipboard before glancing up with a brief smile. "We will be stopping by, probably once a month for a few month, just to make sure everything is going well. If you have any questions, I'll give you my card and my direct line…" She handed my dumbfounded older brother a card.

"The hearing…" Darry started, taking the card and staring down at it for a moment. "What about…we were supposed to have a hearing."

"Yes." She looked down at her papers once more. "Three weeks from this Saturday is the date that has been decided. Until then, I am recommending that you be given temporary custody over Ponyboy Curtis. I've spoken to Officer Charlton several times over the last few days, and I believe that this is the best place for him." Usually I'd be upset at her talking about Pony like he wasn't even there, but all I could think about was the fact that she was going to let Ponyboy stay. He wouldn't have to go back to that boy's home…at least until the hearing. And we could think about that when we came to it.

She gave Darry a packet of papers and a list of instructions to follow, mostly stuff on how to get Pony enrolled in school and when he'd need to see a doctor again and I think something about taking him to her office where they'd have to talk again or something. I didn't care. He got to stay. I squeezed his shoulders, holding him tight at my side as Darry talked to the lady who would be our new social worker.

 ** _Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)_**


	49. Hearing

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! I appreciate it so much :) So, I keep saying 2 more chapters, but I'm gonna say this story will probably go to 50 chapters...maybe. Honestly, there are some things I want to include but I'm not sure if people would want to read them. So, if you guys don't mind more chapters, let me know in reviews. If you think this story is done and you want me to end it, let me know that too. I had an idea for a few more things, but I'm also worried about going on so long that people get bored. Still, I'm having a lot of fun writing this, so I would like to write more. :)**

 _Hearing_

The hearing was at 9:30 in the morning, which meant we needed to be at the courthouse by 8, which meant we all got up at 6:30. Darry shook us awake, which wasn't easy to do since I'd woken up crying at 4. For the past three weeks, the nightmares had been happening almost every night, but they hadn't been as bad as the one I had the night before our hearing. Usually, I'd wake up crying on my own, without waking Sodapop too. On those mornings, I'd climb out of bed and get a glass of water or go out on the porch for a while, trying to catch the sunset or just staring out at our dark street. Sometimes one of the guys would be over, and if I accidentally woke them, they'd come out onto the porch with me. A few times it had been Steve, and first time, he'd offered me a cigarette. "I know you said you quit but..."

"I can't." I'd told him with a shrug, and he'd put the pack back in his pocket.

"I probably ought to quit, too. You know, they say these things cause cancer." He'd leaned on the railing beside me, staring out at the dark street. It had been four or five in the morning, so all the lights had been out in every house on our road.

"If you wanna quit, I know a surefire way." I told him, my voice dull, and he'd sworn under his breath. For a minute, we'd been quiet, then he'd thrown his arm around me for a second, squeezing me in a rare hug. The'd he'd ruffled my hair roughly. "Go back to bed, kid." He'd ordered, pushing me toward the door, and I'd obeyed.

If it was Johnny, who didn't spend all that many nights at our place anymore, he'd talk to me about New York or the books we'd read there, wondering out loud how Marcus and his friends were. We'd talked to Marcus once on the phone, and Sue had called about a week after we'd gotten home. She'd been kind of upset with us, but she'd forgiven us pretty quickly, telling us she hoped everything worked out okay. Johnny and I would talk real quietly for an hour or two out on the porch until our eyes were drooping, and then I'd go back to bed, trying not to wake my brother.

I hated waking Soda. Unlike the nightmares before, I remembered these. And if nothing else, living in that hellhole had cured me of screaming after a nightmare. Instead, I'd half smother myself before either waking up on my own, or Sodapop would pull me away from the pillows and shake me awake. I still felt guilty even though Soda told me again and again that it was okay. He was getting better about going out with Steve after work and not sticking around the house all the time to keep an eye on me, but I'd been to the races with just him and Steve at least four times in the last three weeks, and Steve was weirdly nice to me every time, never complaining.

I'd told Soda once to just try and sleep through it, and he'd looked at me like I'd suggested he smother me with a pillow or something. Then I'd tried just not sleeping, but that had only made it worse. Darry was getting real worried but I think he wanted to wait until after he got full custody to try and take me to the doctor again. Instead, he made sure I was real busy during the day, getting the guys to spend the day with me. They didn't mind or nothing…they weren't exactly babysitting. But it was like I had plans every day, watching movies, playing cards and football and going to diners. He made sure I was eating too, and had the guys watching. I wasn't able to eat much, but I tried, and I was hungry after all the running around we did.

Johnny and I spent most days together, him coming over on his days off and me going to the grocery store where he worked now when he was on his breaks. Two-Bit was usually the one spending the day with me, although Dally would come by sometimes too. I'd yet to have a day alone since coming home. I didn't mind. I'd missed my friends, and it was good to see them again. And it was fun to hang out with them again. Two-Bit was great, and sometimes Susie would come along, which was cool too. I think Two-Bit really had missed me.

I washed my face with cold water, trying to wake up. When I went back into the bedroom, Sodapop was tying his tie, and I reached to the back of my closet, pulling out the suit I'd worn to our parent's funeral. I'd never gotten the hang of tying ties, so I fought with it for a few minutes before Soda came over, turning me tiredly around and tying it for me. I muttered my thanks as he ruffled my hair, his own eyes underscored with dark shadows, and once more I felt guilty. I wanted to tell him to go back to bed…that Darry and I would be fine at the hearing, but I knew he'd be hurt and he wouldn't get any rest anyway.

Darry was in the kitchen, making us breakfast, and I wanted to throw my arms around him and just hold on. He'd be worried, though, and Sodapop would too, so I just sat down and ate the eggs Darry put in front of me. As he passed, though, he dropped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing a little. "How'd you sleep kiddo?"

I shrugged, but Soda answered. "He had anightmares again."

"Maybe you ought to sleep in your own room for a little while, soda." Darry suggested. I was about to agree, but Soda gave him the same look he'd given me earlier. "What was it about, Pone?" He asked, apparently giving up on getting Soda to sleep somewhere else, sitting in the chair beside me.

"Same stuff." I told him with a shrug. I'd only given them the barest details about the nightmares that were haunting me. Richard. That house. Sometimes Lianne and Rita. I never told them about the belt in my dream, or the girls hiding behind me or him cornering me in the house alone…I'd never tell them about that. Instead, I kept telling them they were just about Richard hitting me or yelling or something. I didn't want to talk about it. Darry and Soda respected that for the most part. I wondered how long that would last.

When we had finished eating, Sodapop did the dishes while Darry pulled me aside in the living room. "Officer Charlton's gonna meet us at the courthouse. That social worker too. They're both gonna testify and say that I should keep custody. All you gotta do is answer whatever the judge asks." I nodded, not able to bring myself to say anything for fear I'd start crying or freaking out. But he caught me before I headed to the bathroom, catching my shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Pone. Everyone wants you to stay here." I nodded again. "Pone?"

"I really don't wanna go back to that boy's home, Darry." I whispered, my voice breaking against my will, and he pulled me close, squeezing hard. I didn't want to start crying, so I closed my eyes as tight as I could, hiding my face in his shoulder for a minute.

"Nobody wants that, kiddo." He told me softly, rubbing my back. "But even if you do, I ain't ever gonna stop until I get you back, you understand? I'll find you. It ain't gonna be like before. I ain't gonna let anything stop me until I get you back." I knew he meant it, but I didn't want to let myself think too much about what would happen if the judge wouldn't let me stay with my brothers. I didn't want to think about that boy's home or the foster home or any of it.

I greased my hair back, barely bothering to look in the mirror. I'd catch the guys looking at the scar sometimes, and I didn't mind or nothing, but I sure didn't want to see it. Susie was the one I'd catch looking most often, but I never said anything. She didn't mean anything by it. I think she just wanted to know what had happened. I never talked to her about it. I never talked to anyone about it, and no one asked. Not after that first week. Johnny and I would talk about New York sometimes, and Dally would ask us stuff, but no one said anything about the boy's home or the foster home.

We all piled in Darry's truck, Sodapop in the middle and me against the door to give him more room. I found my eyes closing as we rode to the courthouse, head against the window until we went over a pothole and my head banged against the window. Groaning, I shifted and leaned against Soda instead who put his head on mine, both of us dozing until we made it to the courthouse downtown. Darry parked in the back and we all climbed out, making our way to the huge 5 story building, columns and arches and windows covering every side. It was already hot out, but I tugged at my sleeves, making sure to cover my wrists. Since the doctor's office, no one had seen my back or arms. I made sure to keep covered up, and no one asked to see. I knew that would change. I felt like we were just holding our breath, waiting for Darry to get custody so that we could start fixing things.

Hurrying up the back steps, Darry signed in with the lady at the reception window who pointed us to the third floor. We took the elevator, stepping out into a large waiting room where we sat in uncomfortable wooden chairs for almost an hour before the social worker and Officer Charlton showed up. They shook Darry's hand and Soda and mine too. "How are you feeling, Ponyboy?" The cop asked. I made myself meet his eyes.

It had gotten a little easier. With the guys, it was almost easy. Darry was the hardest, which made no sense. I wasn't scared of Darry. I never had been. But meeting his eyes when he was talking to me made my hands start shaking like they had when I'd been with Richard, and he had to notice. I'd do my best, but he knew, and he was worried. The other guys didn't mention it, but they all noticed too if they saw me with Darry. But other people, people outside our gang, were the hardest, especially men. Store clerks, police officers, Johnny's boss, random guys on the street…I stared at the ground most of the time now.

"I'm doing okay. Thanks." I told the cop, putting my hands in my lap and squeezing them tightly together so they wouldn't shake. His eyes darted down to my hands and then back to my face, looking kind of grim. He met Darry's eyes and I figured the two of them would have a talk about me as soon as they could get a minute alone together.

We were called into the courtroom right on time and took our seats in the front, all of us standing when the judge came in. He read the specifics of our case, and I flinched a bit to have it all laid out in front of the handful of people in the room. There was no one there to watch the case, really, just some social workers and a couple of cops, the man that stood in front of the room with the judge, and a lady writing everything down. Our buddies had offered to come for moral support…well, Two-Bit and Steve had, but Darry had told them to sleep in.

He started with Bob and the night Johnny and I had been jumped, then moved on, briefly mentioning my time in the boy's home, then that I'd been in an abusive foster home. Then that I'd run away, but he didn't ask me any questions about that. Instead, when he had me come up to sit in the front, he asked me about living with my brothers, if I liked it and how I did in school. I answered him as best I could, alternating between staring at my hands and glancing up at the judge.

When he was done asking me questions, I went back to sitting with Darry and Soda. Soda squeezed my arm for a minute while the social worker talked with the judge for a minute, too quietly for us to hear, and then Officer Charlton took the seat I'd had and the judge asked about his experiences with us.

"Darrel Curtis came to me a few weeks after his brother went missing, confiding in me that his brother was alive, and that his brother's foster father had killed one of the girls in the house. Without proof, there was nothing we could do, so I began investigating. Darrel and Sodapop Curtis were obviously desperate to get their younger brother back, and had not been giving any kind of visitation rights since Ponyboy had been taken away."

The judge asked him a couple more questions, then talked to the social worker some more. Eventually, he asked her what her recommendation was.

"Ponyboy Curtis was taken away from his older brother because he was involved in the death of another boy. What was supposed to be an investigation into his case and a brief separation from his family was mismanaged by his former social worker who refused to communicate with his family, wouldn't allow his brothers to visit or ever speak on the phone with him, and placed him in an abusive home where she was having an affair with the foster father. Both she and the foster father have been arrested, and it is obvious that Darrel Curtis wants custody of his brother. Ponyboy Curtis wants to be with his older brothers, and Darrel has provided a fit home for both of his brothers. I would recommend Darrel Curtis be given permanent custody of his Ponyboy, with visits from myself monthly."

Soda squeezed my arm, leaning forward, and even Darry was sitting upright, hands clasped in his lap. I kept my eyes on my hands, praying the same word over and over. 'Please, please, please.' It was almost over. I was almost back to my brothers for good. No more waiting for everything to come crashing down. No more being scared that they were going to show up at any time, staring at the ceiling at night waiting for the knock at our door.

"Darrel, after looking at your case, I believe I'm going to follow Ms. Rhodes' recommendation. Have you already enrolled Ponyboy in school?" He asked my brother.

"Yes, sir." He answered.

"Good. With your grades, Ponyboy, you have a good chance at a scholarship. Darrel, I have some papers for you to sign and you should speak to Ms. Rhodes about the monthly visits." He gestured for Darry to come up to the high table where the judge was sitting, and Darry signed some papers. Soda threw an arm around me, squeezing hard, and I put my arms around him, head on his shoulder as I breathed for the first time in what felt like hours, my whole body deflating, my eyes hot.

"I get to stay." I whispered, and he squeezed me again.

"You get to stay!" He held me by my shoulders, pulling back and grinning. Officer Charlton came over and shook Soda's hand, clapping me on the shoulder, and when Darry came over, he shook his hand too.

Before the cop could say much to him, Darry reached down and pulled me into a hug, a hand on the back of my head, and I squeezed him tight, gripping the back of his suit jacket. He held me for a long time before finally pulling away, ruffling my hair and grinning. "Looks like you're stuck with me." I told him, and he chuckled, squeezing my shoulder.

"Sure does, kiddo."

"Mr. Curtis?" All three of us glanced up and Mrs. Rhodes gestured to Darry. "If you have a moment, could I speak to you?"

"Of course." He patted me on the shoulder, then Sodapop and I headed out to that waiting room again while he and the social worker went into a small office a few doors down. Soda threw an arm around my shoulder when we sat down, his head dropping onto mine.

"Love you, Pone." He murmured. "Glory, I love you so much."

"Love you too." I hesitated. "What do you think they're talking about?"  
"Just paperwork." He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. All you gotta worry about is going to school and getting your grades back up, but that shouldn't be a problem." I hummed in agreement, my eyes on the room down the hallway where my brother and that social worker were talking. "You gonna try out for track again?" He asked, pulling me out of my worries.

"I don't know…I ain't in shape for it."

"That's not a problem. You got a couple of weeks." He nudged me. "Come on, you miss winning all them trophies, don't you?" I snorted, nudging him back with my elbow.

"I might try out. Hadn't really thought about it." I admitted. "They're gonna let me try and take my finals from last year, but I don't know if I'll pass." He nodded slowly, patting my back.

"You know it's okay if you don't, right? We ain't gonna be upset. No one could blame you for not being able to learn much last year." He assured me softly. "You can still try out for track if you have to repeat the year."

Darry came out of the office, looking real serious, but he tried to smile when he caught our eyes. "You guys ready to head home?" He asked, and I just nodded, not wanting to ask about it just yet. I figured we'd have to talk about whatever it was sooner or later.

When we got back to the house, Sodapop grabbed the phone and dialed Steve first, and while he was telling him about it and making plans to go to Tim's place for a card game I had no intention of trying to get invited to, Darry asked me to come into the kitchen with him, both of us sitting at the table. He had his hands clasped together on top of the table and was staring at them, looking nervous, so I broke the silence. "What's going on? What did that social worker say?" He looked up at me then, his smile kind of sad, and I felt my heart sink. "Do…do I have to go to the boy's home or…"

"No." He dropped his hands, shaking his head. "No, I've got custody and you don't have to go anywhere, Pone. Not ever again…hell, you can live here forever as far as I'm concerned."

"Yeah, I'll bet you'll be saying that when you finally get a girl."

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth but he didn't take the bait. "The social worker gave me the name of a doctor she wants me to take you to."

I felt my stomach drop again. "What kind of doctor?" I asked, leaning back.

"Somebody for you to talk to…about…the stuff that happened with Richard."

"Why?"

He sighed, crossing his arms. "Because she thinks that would help. And I think she might be right."

"I don't wanna talk to anyone." I told him shortly, and he gave another sad smile. I'd been half afraid he'd get mad, but he didn't look like it.

"I know, Pony. But you're having nightmares every night. You're barely sleeping. You're sill not eating enough. School starts in a couple of weeks and you're not looking too good." He was being real gentle, but I was still scared. I didn't want to talk to my own brothers about what happened, much less some stranger. But more than that, I didn't want to get taken away again.

"Do I have to?" I asked, my voice sounding dead even to me. He sighed, running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, kiddo. You have to." I let out a long breath, slumping in the chair and nodding.

"Okay." If it meant I got to stay with my family, I'd do just about anything.

 **Thank you so much for reading!**


	50. Hard Talks

**Thank you for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy the Sunday Bonus Chapter :)**

Hard Talks

I stared at the kitchen table, listening to Sodapop on the phone in the other room and sitting in silence with Darry. He was looking more worried that before, but I didn't know what to tell him. I'd do whatever they wanted if it meant I didn't have to go back to that boy's home. I guess that included talking to some stranger about what had happened. I didn't want to. The thought made my stomach turn over and I wanted to throw up, but I just sat at that table with Darry, neither of us talking, until Sodapop came in, all grins and laughter before he caught sight of us.

"Hey, what's going on?" He cried, punching me gently on the shoulder as he loosened his tie with the other hand. "You get to stay, Pone! Darry, we got him back! And that social worker seems nice. What's wrong?" He asked our brother, ruffling my hair roughly, and I managed a half smile, starting to tell him that nothing was wrong…but Darry spoke up before I could lie.

"That social worker, Ms. Rhodes, gave me the number for a doctor…I gotta make an appointment for him." Soda lifted an eyebrow and glanced down at me.

"Yeah? What kind of doctor?" I stood up, stepping around Soda and heading out to our bedroom. Once inside, I changed as fast as I could, throwing the suit over my desk chair and pulling on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. When I stepped into the living room, I heard Soda getting loud in the kitchen. "He doesn't need counseling, Darry! He ain't crazy!"

"No one said he was crazy, Soda." Darry argued, his voice a little softer, sounding almost hurt. "Glory, you think I want to do this to him right now? After everything?" Choosing that opportunity to spend a little time alone, I left through the front door, closing it softly on my way out, and, shoving my hands in my pockets, I started walking down the street.

I didn't much want to be babysat, not that that was what my friends were doing…still, I wanted to be alone. It was about 10:30, so I headed into town, figuring that Two-Bit and Dal would still be asleep, so there wasn't much chance of me running into them. Johnny was at work, and Steve as going to meet up with Soda, so I was probably safe. It wasn't like I had to be with someone all the time, even though I think that's what Darry would have preferred.

I reached into my pocket, closing my fingers around my blade for a second. I'd grabbed it at the last second. The last thing I had the patience for at the moment were socs…it had been quite a while since I'd seen them around. In the last few weeks, they hadn't been around our side of town. It was the first time I'd even thought of them in months. The last thing I needed was to get in trouble with socs, but I was ready if they decided to bug me.

I headed to the library. It was bigger than the one in New York, but not by much. Plus people around here might recognize me. I grabbed a book at random, taking it upstairs and sitting down in a chair in the corner, hoping I was hidden well enough that no one would bug me.

It worked, but I couldn't focus on the book. It probably didn't help that the book wasn't very interesting, but my mind didn't want to focus on a story. It wanted to go over and over the short conversation with my brother. I knew he was worried about how quickly I gave in to something I obviously didn't want to do. He'd been ready for an argument. But I was so tired. I just wanted to lie down and sleep…sleep without nightmares. Just…sleep. But I couldn't sleep in the library so I tried to focus on the book again. My mind refused.

A doctor. A doctor I'd have to talk to about what had happened at Richard's house. A doctor for crazy people. A doctor for people like the guys who came back from Vietnam barely able to function anymore. That's what that social worker thought of me. She thought I was crazy. Would Darry and Soda think that too? I mean, I know I wasn't the same as before. And I was still trying to get better. What could a doctor do? Give me pills or something? I'd do pretty much anything but I didn't want to take pills. I might put up a fight at that. And Soda might back me up, but Darry was afraid they'd take me again, he'd do just about anything they said. Would he make me? The thought of being a person whose brother had to force pills down his throat made me want to be sick, and I had to close my eyes, suppressing the shudder.

I read for a while, flipping aimlessly through the book until I decided to give up. I walked around the second floor of the library, running my fingers over the spines and failing to find anything interesting. I'd managed to kill almost an hour and it was nearly twelve, so I put the book away, leaving the cool library and wincing at the heat wave that hit me in the face as soon as I stepped outside. I didn't want to go home and talk to my brothers, so I stuck my thumbs in my pocket and made my way to the grocery store.

Johnny was on a ladder, putting something out of a box on the top shelf. I rapped my knuckles against the ladder and Johnny glanced down, the annoyed look dropping as soon as he saw me, changing into a grin. "Hey, man! How was the hearing?"

"Fine. When's your lunch?" I asked, leaning on the shelf. He glanced around, finding the clock on the wall, then looked back at the box.

"Uh…give me ten minutes?"

"Sure." I knocked on the ladder again, wandering around the store for a minute and wishing I had some money. No way I'd be able to get a job for a while, but I wasn't about to ask Darry or Sodapop for money. Not when they'd need to buy stuff for me again…more food and clothes for school and everything. And that doctor. No way that was free. How could they make us do this? How could they make me cost my brothers even more money? The grocery store was pretty empty, just a couple of girls my age in a group looking at some make-up a few aisles over, so I avoided them, keeping my head down and going out the front door and around the side of the building to wait as I usually did.

Johnny met me out back, carrying two sandwiches. He thrust one at me and I took it even though food was the last thing on my mind. None of the gang would let me skip a meal, whether or not I was hungry, so I nibbled at it, both of us taking seats on the milk crates we'd dragged out back. "You want some soda or something?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"Nah."

"How was the hearing? Darry got custody?"

"Yeah…he did." Johnny narrowed his eyes, able to tell immediately that something was wrong.

"What? What happened, Pone?"

I glanced around, not wanting anyone to hear. "The social worker told Darry I had to see a doctor."

"Thought you already saw a doctor."

"Different kind of doctor."

"Yeah?" He asked, holding the sandwich but not taking a bite. I picked at the crust of my own.

"Like…a doctor I'm supposed to talk to…about everything. Like…for crazy people." I told him, my voice dying, but he was shaking his head before I'd even finished.

"You ain't crazy, Pone."

"What if I…"

"Stop. You ain't crazy. We all know that. You went through a lot of stuff but it didn't make you crazy.

"Then why do I got see some doctor for crazy people?" I grumbled. Johnny hesitated, taking a bite and swallowing, then leaning in.

"You know, I don't think they're just for crazy people, Pone. I think…maybe it could even help to talk about it." I gave him a betrayed look, and he kicked me a little. "Don't look like that. You won't talk about it and keeping it in ain't helping."

"I told the cop pretty much all of it." I reminded him.

"Yeah, but you didn't _talk_ about it."

"I don't want to _talk_ about it. I ain't a girl." I gave him a look and he grinned.

"Didn't say you were. But what you went through was bad, and it might make you feel better."

"I just want to forget about it, Johnny." I admitted softly, and he reached out, grabbing my arm.

"I know, but I don't think you can." He told me. I took another bite, wiping irritably at my eyes.

"It sucks." I muttered, and he nodded.

"Yeah it does." He left it at that, taking a bite of his own sandwich, and we finished the food in silence, him pulling out a pack of cards when we were done. We played until his break was over, and he pocketed the cards again.

"You like this job?" I asked as he was headed back in.

"Yeah. It's like the one we had. Just putting stuff away. Mr. Williams called and gave me a reference and everything. He was great." He grinned, punching my shoulder. "Maybe when Darry lets you get a job, you can work here too."

"Yeah, maybe." I shoved him toward the back door, then emerged from the alley and made my way back towards my house. Wasn't like there was much to do on my own around town. I guess I could have tried to sneak into a movie, but I didn't want to risk getting caught.

"There you are!" My steps faltered when Sodapop came running from the direction of the town, Steve a few steps behind. "Don't do that!" I was kind of surprised…Soda seemed really upset.

"Don't do what?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Disappear without telling us where you're going." I glanced at his friend, giving a half grin that he returned, nodding to me.

"You and Steve?" Soda rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "I met Johnny for lunch on his break," I told him.

"We need to talk, Pony." I felt myself shutting down at the words.

"Why?" I didn't want to talk…not about what I was sure he wanted to talk about.

"Look, Darry told me…"

"Don't you have a card game to go to or something?" I asked, hating that Steve was here…that everyone would know that I had to see a doctor for crazy people, no matter what Johnny said. It was bad enough all the guys knew everything else…privacy was pretty much nonexistent. I didn't want to talk about this. I wanted to sleep. I wanted it to be over.

"Yeah, we do. C'mon, Soda." Steve tugged at my brother's arm, apparently reading my tone better than my brother, but Soda shook him off.

"Pony, the social worker just thinks…"

"I don't want to talk about it, Soda." I cut him off, turning toward our house. "Have fun at your card game. Try to win some money." I called over my shoulder.

"We need to talk…"

"No." I cut him off again, ignoring the fact that he was following me. They could force me to go see a doctor, and they might be able to force me to talk to him, but they couldn't force me to talk to Sodapop. I wasn't gonna do that to him.

Soda grabbed my arm, pulling me to an abrupt stop. "Pony, we need to…" I wheeled on him, feeling the frustration build and boil over as I yanked my arm out of his grip.

"I said no!" I stopped just short of shoving him, but I did take a step toward him, fists balled. He took a step back, eyes wide, and I felt the blood drain from my face. I didn't scream at Soda, not in the middle of the street. I didn't put my hands up like I was gonna hurt Soda. I didn't all but threaten my brother who was also my best friend. Dropping my hands, I spun on my heels and took off toward the house, not running but moving fast. He didn't come after me, but I felt their eyes on me until I turned the corner.

Darry found me in our bedroom, sitting on the floor, my knees up to my chin, my fingers tight in my hair at the sides of my head. He didn't say anything at first, even though I knew he was there, just stood there. After a minute, he sat down beside me against the wall, putting a hesitant hand on my back. He didn't ask, though, just sat with me. I knew he was worried. "You should have let me go back to the boy's home," I told him, my voice flat, and he recoiled like I'd slapped him. He was quiet for a minute, and I thought he was going to yell. When he did speak, he sounded so mad he might as well have.

"What the hell makes you say something like that?" He asked, sounding choked. "After all we've gone through…damn it, Pony…"

"You guys would be better off," I told him simply. "You could go to school and…"

"Stop" He ordered, his voice cold. "I don't know what's gotten into you but it had better stop right there. You hear?" I didn't answer, just stared at the insides of my eyelids. My fingers were so tight in my hair that it hurt and my hands were shaking. Come to think of it, _I_ was shaking. Was it because Darry was mad? Maybe. I was gonna start crying and I wanted him to leave. I wanted it to be over. I wanted Richard's hold on my life to be gone. The hand returned to my back and rubbed slow circles, and I had to choke back a sob. Darry knew, though, and put his arms around me. "Just tell me." Darry urged. "C'mon, honey, just tell me."

"He's still hurting me." I choked out, and Darry leaned his head back against the wall, sighing and rubbing my back. It wasn't fair to do this...to drop all this on my brother. He didn't deserve this. But even letting those words out helped a little...let some of the pressure out. I felt like I was going to explode if I didn't talk, but I was even more afraid of what would happen if I did talk. "I can't sleep…I'm so tired but I can't sleep. They won't stop. The nightmares won't stop."

"Maybe that doctor can help with that." He suggested, soft and almost tentative.

"I ain't crazy!" I snapped. He didn't rise to the bait, though. Just kept rubbing my back, and the anger left as soon as it came, just like it had with Soda. That worried me and reminded me too much of my bloody fist being pulled back by Johnny in a grocery store. "I don't want to be crazy."

"No one said you were. I don't think you're crazy, Ponyboy. I think you went through something really awful and painful and just…you were alone for a long time. But you aren't anymore. Maybe talking to someone about what happened will make you feel better. And…maybe they can give you something to help you sleep."

I shook my head, pulling away and shaking more. "No. No. I don't want to, Darry." The look I gave him must have scared him, because he caught my shoulders.

"Okay. Hey, I ain't never gonna make you take something if you don't want to, okay?"

"You promise?" I asked, hands still shaking. He nodded, eyes dark and serious.

"I promise." I accepted it, leaning against the wall again, and his hand went to my back once more.

"I yelled at Soda. He wanted to talk about the doctor and stuff and I yelled at him."

"You know he can't stay mad at you."

I thought back to the night in the grocery store…of beating a man almost to death and not remembering it. I shuddered and he pulled me closer like I was cold. "Darry?"

"Hm?"

"What if I am?" I whispered it, not meeting his eyes but staring across the room. Normal people didn't do stuff like this. They didn't feel waves of rage that went as fast as they came or shake when someone got too close or have nightmares that kept them up every night. I knew that because I used to be normal. Before Richard. "What if I'm crazy?"

"You're not…"

"What if I am?" I insisted. He sighed, holding me against his side.

"Then we will figure out how to make you better." He told me, his tone reasonable.

Sodapop didn't get home until late, after Darry had already called and scheduled an appointment for me the next day. Apparently, the social workers had already talked to this doctor…they wanted to get me in before school started. I hadn't wanted to talk about it and Darry hadn't pushed, letting me hide in the hosue all day and not bugging me about it. Two-Bit had come over with Susie for a while, but I'd stayed in my room, and Darry had covered for me, telling them that I wasn't feeling real well. I appreciated it. I didn't want to talk to Two-Bit or anyone else really.

Soda came into the bedroom after I was already lying down, curled up under the blankets. I heard him get undressed and pull on pajamas, then felt him crawl into bed. I knew it was him, but I still stiffened up a little. He lay beside me in silence for a minute, then spoke quietly. "You want me to sleep in the other room?" My eyes got hot and I shook my head. I didn't want to have this fight, but I knew we had to. "You want me to stop asking? Stop trying to talk to you? Just butt out?" I shook my head again, hating that I was crying for the second time in one day. "Cause if you do…it doesn't make a difference. I'm not going to stop. You dig?" I turned over, hiding my face in his shoulder as he held me, hating that I was sobbing again. I'd turned into a real crybaby. He was crying too, though, which made me feel a little better. "What did I do, Pony? Why don't you want to talk to me anymore? Are you mad?"

"No." I sobbed into his shoulder.

"Then why? Why won't you talk to me? You used to talk to me about everything. I ain't gonna tell anyone. I promise. I won't tell Steve or anyone. Not even Darry if you don't want me to. You know you can trust me."

"It's gonna hurt," I whispered, and he stopped, even making his breathing quieter so he could hear me. "It's gonna hurt, Soda."

"What?"

"When I tell you. It's gonna hurt you." He gave a laugh that was more sad that anything I'd heard, arms wrapping even tighter around me. "It's gonna hurt a lot."

He seemed to think for a minute, trying to find his words. Eventually, he did. "It already hurts." He admitted softly. "Knowing what happens…it hurts more than anything in the world…except knowing that you're hurting and won't let me help. That's worse. Wondering…wishing I could help. That's worse. Glory, Pony, you lived it and I couldn't help. But if talking to me might help…I can take it."

"I don't want to hurt you." He shook his head, running his fingers through my hair.

"You're not going to. It's not you hurting me, Pone. It's just sharing what happened. It won't be so heavy if you let me help you carry it." Heavy. That's what it was. I felt like I was being crushed by all of it. My jaw almost hurt from keeping it clenched to keep the words inside. So I opened it.

"I almost killed someone," I whispered it, the words breaking out of my mouth. "A guy and his friends came into the grocery store where Johnny and I worked. The same guys that had caused trouble for James and his friends. They were bugging Sue and stealing…one of 'em grabbed her. I don't even remember what happened next, but the next thing I remember, I was sitting on top of him. My hands were broken open and he was beat so bad he was almost dead. I thought he was gonna hurt her...like Richard hurt Rita and Lianne. I just kept hitting him until Johnny grabbed me. I would have killed him. What if I am crazy? Or dangerous? What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt you?" The words came out like a wave, pouring out of me until I had nothing left to say, slumping back on the pillow, crying and shaking.

My brother was quiet, but he held me close, rubbing my back and running a hand through my hair. "You aren't crazy, and you wouldn't hurt me." He assured me softly. "You were mad at me earlier, right?" I just nodded. "And you were gonna come at me." I heard him smiling a little. "I thought you might for a second. But you didn't. You stopped. You knew what you were doing."

"But I didn't before…"

"I think you should tell the doctor about this. You don't have to tell him where you were or even where you were working. Just…tell him about it. Maybe he has some answers. I don't…I mean, I'll listen and I think it's gonna help you to talk, but maybe the doctor will have answers. Darry was telling me what the social worker said. This doctor talks to people who've gone through the kind of stuff you went through. Kids from bad homes and bad foster homes. And he helps them."

"I don't want to tell him anything."

"I know." It was more of a comforting noise than a real answer, so I went on, admitting to him what I hadn't wanted to say to anyone else.

"I don't want to be alone with the doctor." He got quiet then, the arms around me going tight.

"Darry has to work tomorrow. He tried to get off, but honestly, we need the money. So I'm gonna be taking you to that doctor. Darry said they probably won't let me go in the room with you when you're talking to him. And that's all that's gonna happen, savvy? Just talking. Darry was real clear about that. All that doctor should do is talk to you. But I'm gonna stay in the other room the whole time, and if anything happens…if you need me for anything, you yell. I know you can yell loud. And I swear, I'll break that door down. You hear?" I nodded, smiling a little.

"I hear."

"Good." He pulled away and lay on the pillow in front of me, stretching and yawning.

"How was the card game?" I asked, desperate to talk about someone, anything else. He propped his head on his hand and grinned, the heavy atmosphere disappearing.

"I won twelve dollars." He gloated.

"Yeah? You cheat?"

He gasped, putting a hand to his chest, and I had to laugh. He was acting like Two-Bit. "Me? Ponyboy Curtis, I'm hurt."

"No, you're a cheater." He smacked me upside the head.

"Shut up and let me tell you the story. So, there we were, Steve, me, Tim, that guy from that other DX…you know…Frank or something, and the guy with the tattoo of a heart. on his neck."

"Ah, yes, neck-tattoo-guy." He kicked me but snorted.

"Yeah. So it was the final round and I had nothing but aces and queens…glory you should have seen Tim's face."

"Which sleeve did you pull those from?"

"Shut up and listen." Grinning, I put my head down on my pillow and did just that. And for the first time in days, I slept without nightmares.

 _ **Thank you for reading! :)**_


	51. Counseling

**_So, this is going to be the last chapter for this story. I've been writing it for a very long time, and I've enjoyed it so much. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I truly appreciate every one of you so much. I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. There is probably going to be a sequel, but I do not have it written yet :)_**

Counseling

The waiting room was cold, and I tugged down my sleeves over my wrists, staring out at the sunny day outside. I would have much rather been out there, maybe hanging around town with Two-Bit or reading in the lot with Johnny. I'd thought about not coming…about finding a place to hide out, but only for a second. The social worker wanted me to do this…she'd all but told us I had to, and I didn't want to cause Darry or Sodapop any more problems. They had enough to deal with, what with work and getting me enrolled in school and paying for everything. I wondered again if I should have stayed away…if that would have been easier on them, but Sodapop would get mad if I brought it up, so I kept quiet.

That morning, Darry had been gone by the time Soda shook me awake. We'd been the only ones home…I guess the guys had already cleared out, if anyone had stayed over. Rita had been staying with a friend, although she never told us who that friend was or where they lived. Two-Bit had been staying with Susie at their house most nights, keeping a close eye on her after everything that had happened. Johnny had been working most days, and I guess he slept at home. He seemed different…he hadn't had a black eye or a bruise ever since we got home, and I had a feeling he wasn't letting his parents get to him. He still stayed over sometimes, but he hadn't showed up in the middle of the night since we'd come back.

Steve was the one that slept over the most, and I figured things were pretty bad with his Dad. Dally, too, would stay over sometimes, but all in all, things had been pretty quiet. I'd been half dragged out of bed by Soda, grumbling and complaining the whole time, but Soda had just punched my shoulder, pointing me toward the kitchen table where he'd poured us cereal, and we'd eaten in relative silence. He'd asked once if I was okay and I'd lied and said yes. That was about it. I hadn't had any nightmares, so I was better rested than I'd been in a few days, but I still wanted to go back to bed and hide from all of this.

We'd taken the bus to the doctor's office across town since Darry had the truck and Steve was working. He probably would have lent us his car, but I hadn't wanted to ask, and Sodapop hadn't either. Instead, we caught the bus and rode in the back, everyone ignoring us except for a soc who kept staring at me, eyes narrow like he was confused. "You know that guy, Pone?" Sodapop had asked, and I'd glanced at the guy, meeting his eyes then sighing.

"Yeah. That's Randy." My brother had frowned, trying to place the name. "Bob's friend."

"Shit." Soda had muttered, glaring at the guy and throwing an arm around me. "He was there that night?"

"Yep. I think he was the one that poured a flask on my head." I'd shrugged, staring out the window without much interest. I had a blade in my pocket…I'd grabbed it at the last second. No way I was letting some soc screw thing up for us. Soda had squeezed me, glaring until Randy turned around.

"He better not get any funny ideas." Soda had grumbled, but Randy had gotten off at the next stop and I hadn't figured we'd run into him anytime soon. We'd gotten off the bus a while later when we'd finally reached the street where the doctor's office was, and Soda had led me inside, signing in with the lady at the front desk and then leading me to a seat.

We waited for about ten minutes, my arm against Soda's, him flipping through a magazine about cars without much interest. His leg was already bouncing, and I would have told him he didn't have to wait if I wasn't so scared. I knew I ought to tell him he could go somewhere…it was selfish of me to want him to wait. But I didn't say anything. My own leg started bouncing and I stared down at my clenched hands until he reached over, squeezing my knee. "You alright?" He asked, real soft. There was only one other person in the waiting room, a woman about our mom's age, and she was reading a book, not even looking up at us when my brother spoke.

"Yeah."

"It's gonna be fine, Pony." He assured me, patting my knee and sitting back.

"I know." I didn't know. But I knew he was trying to help, so I did my best to smile. He went back to his magazine, holding it open so I could read over his shoulder, and I skimmed the pages, looking at the cars until the receptionist called my name.

"Ponyboy Curtis? Doctor Song can see you now." I stood, glancing over at Soda who offered an encouraging smile, and I followed the lady through the door and into another room with a long, low sofa and a large, plush chair. In the chair was a tall woman with short cropped black hair, a pair of glasses perched on her nose. She smiled when I came in, standing and holding out a cold hand that I shook.

"Ponyboy Curtis? I'm Doctor Marissa Song. It's very nice to meet you." I blinked a few times in surprise, glancing back at the shut door behind me.

"Uh…you too, Doctor Song." I hadn't been expecting a woman. She was pretty, with big brown eyes and an easy smile, and she gestured for me to sit down on the sofa. I did, perching on the edge of it. The room was well lit with a huge window covered by sheer curtains on one wall. We were on the second floor, so no one could look in, but we could see the street from where we sat. In the middle of the room was a low table with a neat stack of paper in the center and a box of pencils beside it. I glanced around, taking in the picture or a cabin in the woods on one wall and another of horses in a meadow on another. The thought of Soda's horse flashed through my mind and was gone as soon as she spoke.

"Your social worker, Mrs. Rhodes, spoke to me before your hearing and told me a little about your situation. Why don't I tell you what I know, and we can go from there. How does that sound?" She spoke quietly, her knees crossed, her back against her chair, the picture of calm. She was at ease here, and I felt my shoulders untense just a little.

"Um, yeah…yes ma'am." I corrected, wondering if I was supposed to call her 'doctor' or 'ma'am.'

She smiled but didn't comment on the slip. Instead, she picked up a clipboard and put it in her lap, never once glancing down at it. "Your name is Ponyboy Curtis, and you are the youngest of three boys. Your oldest brother, Darrel has custody of both yourself and your brother which he gained after the death of your parents when you were thirteen. Your other brother's name is Sodapop and he works at a gas station. Your oldest brother roofs houses and works in a warehouse." She paused and I nodded. So far, so good. If she was going to do all the talking, this might not be so bad. Almost a year ago, you and your friend were at a park when you were attacked by a group of older boys. Your friend stabbed one of the boys and your social worker at the time, Ms. Patty Jones, had you taken from your brother until an investigation into your situation could be held. Instead of planning a hearing, however, she had you placed in a boy's home, then in a foster home where you lived with an abusive man and his wife, along with four other foster children. After the death of your foster sister, you ran away and were missing until a few weeks ago. Is this correct?" I nodded again. That was the gist.

"Yes, ma'am."

"After returning home, your brother was granted temporary custody once more, and you had a hearing this week where your older brother was once again granted custody over yourself and your brother who is will be eighteen next year. Correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now that I know about you, how about I tell you a little about myself. I was born in Nevada, and when I was four, we moved to Oklahoma. When I was seven, my father was killed in a car crash, and my mother died soon after. My older brother, my younger sister, and myself were all placed in foster care, first together, then we were moved to different homes. I was in an abusive home from the age of twelve until I turned seventeen and went to college. My older brother is currently a police officer in Kansas, and my younger sister is in Nevada finishing up her degree in medicine. I live here in Tulsa with my husband. I attended college in Nevada as well, but moved back when I got my degree. I have been practicing here for three years." She paused, and I forced my mouth to close.

She said it all very calmly, matter-of fact and unashamed. Five years. She'd been in an abusive foster home, maybe one as bad as Richard's, for five years. "Does it surprise you that I would tell people that?" She asked, and I shrugged, staring down at my lap uncomfortably. I didn't want to ask what the people there had done. It was none of my business. But more worrisome, I had a feeling that if I did ask, she might just tell me. "Since this is your first session, we'll keep it light. How's that sound?" I glanced back up and she smiled. "You're very quiet, Ponyboy. Are you always this quiet?"

"Yes, ma'am." I admitted, and the smile softened.

"That's alright. I'm never going to force you to talk, Ponyboy. I think it would make you feel better. I know it's hard to live with the things that happen to us sometimes, and as hard as it can be to talk about them, it's also a good way to let some of it go." I just watched her, not about to start pouring my heart out to some stranger, no matter how nice she was. She smiled again, though, nodding. "Why don't you tell me about your big brothers? The oldest one, Darrel. Is he the one in the waiting room?"

"No. That's Sodapop. Darry has to work."

"I see." She nodded thoughtfully like I'd said something important. "Darrel is six years older than you. Do the two of you get along?"

I hesitated, not sure what the consequences of these questions was going to be. Would she report back to the social worker if I said no? If I was honest and said we used to fight sometimes, but now we were so scared of me getting taken away it was like we were walking on eggshells. She seemed to notice my hesitation and clasped her hands in her lap. "Are you aware, Ponyboy, of doctor patient confidentiality?"

"Um…kind of?" She nodded.

"Almost anything you tell me in this room will be kept confidential. Now, if you tell me that your older brother is abusive in any way, I am required to report that. However, if you tell me that your older brother yells sometimes, or that you fight, or that you think he's unfair, well, that's part of a normal relationship with any parent or sibling. Unless your older brother is abusive or cannot care for you, you will not be taken away from him. Do you understand?" I nodded, letting out a breath, and she relaxed once more. "So, do you and your brother get along?"

"We didn't use to, but we do now." I told her, being honest.

"What kinds of things did you fight about?"

"Uh…he'd get on me sometimes. When I was late getting home or didn't get good grades. He was worried, though." I was quick to defend him. "He's gotta work all the time and he was worried about me." She nodded, her eyes gentle on mine.

"Are you close to your oldest brother?"

"I wasn't…" I admitted. "But we're closer now." I smiled, glad it was true, and she nodded again.

We talked for about thirty minutes, mostly stuff about Darry and Soda, and she asked a few things about my parents. When the half hour was up, she gave me her card with her number on it, and told me that we'd be meeting every week for a few months, until she determined that it was no longer necessary. I shook her hand again and met Sodapop out in the waiting room.

He jumped up when I stepped into the room and throwing the magazine down, dropping an arm around my shoulders and squeezing. "Well, how was it?" He asked as we headed toward the hallway where the elevators would take us down to the ground floor.

"Uh…fine." I shrugged. I didn't give him anything else, though, and he didn't ask. I figured he wouldn't, not for a while. That was okay, though. One day, I'd be able to talk to him about it. Just watching Doctor Song, listening to her tell her story so easily…I knew one day, if she could tell strangers about what had happened to her, I'd be able to talk to my brothers about everything that had happened to me. The thought made my chest a little lighter, and I grinned at Soda as we stood in the elevator. He ruffled my hair, but we were quiet until we reached the sidewalk where Soda began telling me all about a tuff car he'd found in that magazine and I pretended to listen.

The house was quiet when we got back, and even though I'd planned on reading or something for a while, or maybe going out to find Johnny, Soda was antsy and wanted me to come along to the DX where he planned on visiting Steve and asking if he wanted to go to the races or something that night. Since he'd sat in a doctor's office for half an hour for me, I decided I'd go along, and followed him out the door once more and to the DX.

It wasn't a long walk, and it was nice to be outside in the warmth again, even though I quickly started getting too hot. Still, I kept my sleeves pulled down and even though Soda glanced at my arms every once in a while, he didn't ask me to pull them up again. I'd been real careful about keeping covered up for the last few weeks, and no one bugged me about it even though it was real hot out. They all knew why I kept my sleeves pulled down, I guess, and didn't want to push me.

Steve was around back, working on a car, and Sodapop went to find him while I waited around out front, assuring him that I was fine with waiting. He shrugged, promising me we'd find Two-Bit or go visit Johnny as soon as he was done. I started to remind him that I didn't need a babysitter, but he was already headed around back, so I decided to have that conversation later. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I leaned against the building, watching the greasers that walked by. Inside, one of Soda's coworkers was working the register and gave me a half wave. I waved back, nodding to him, and turned back to the street just as a couple of guys headed my way, both glancing around and leaving the sidewalk for the DX parking lot.

I glanced around, dropping my eyes and shoving my hands in my pockets. Soda was within shouting distance and Steve would come running too. The guy inside would probably help me out if I needed, too, so I wasn't too worried. The white guy was leading the way, looking around, and his darker skinned buddy had his hands shoved in his pockets, looking kind of nervous. I dropped my eyes, moving away from the door, but they were coming toward me and I gripped my blade in my pocket, heart racing.

"Well, well, well. I thought you'd be a little harder to find." My head jerked up at the voice and found myself face to face with James. He was grinning, arms crossed, and my jaw dropped open. Behind him, Markus smirked, dropping his folded hands and reaching out, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Hey, Mike." He greeted, holding out a hand that I shook. He squeezed, shaking his head. "Ponyboy, huh?"

I snorted, nodding. "Yeah. Did Mr. Williams tell you?"

"Yep. What kind of name is Ponyboy, huh?"

"The hell's your problem, man?" We all turned as Sodapop turned the corner, Steve on his heels. Steve was covered in grease, a smear of it across his forehead, and I fought back a laugh. Soda and Steve moved in front of me, staring James and Marcus down, and I realized that they had no idea who these guys were. I guess they just saw two strangers harassing me about their name.

"My dad was real creative." I told Marcus, jerking my head towards Soda.

"I see." He nodded, watching my brother and his friend warily. Before I could explain to Soda and Steve what was going on, James held out a hand to Soda.

"You must be the soft drink. I'm James." Soda froze, then turned to me with wide-eyes. I nodded, jerking my chin toward his hand, which Soda took.

"Oh…you're James!" He shook my brother's hand, grinning and nodding.

"Sure am. Figured we'd come see where the kid lives when he ain't crashing on my couch. Where's the little one?" He asked me.

"Work. He got a job at a grocery store here. Said your uncle helped him out." Marcus nodded, his wary eyes still on Sodapop and Steve. "Guys, this is Marcus. He's Mr. Williams's nephew. Marcus, this is my brother Sodapop and his friend, Steve." Soda held out a hand, then Steve. "You guys staying?"

"For a couple of days." James shrugged, glancing over at Marcus. "Thought I'd hunt Dallas down and have a talk about sending kids to come live with me." Steve chuckled and Soda threw his arm around my shoulder.

"We can hunt him down for you. I know where he'll be for dinner tonight, anyway. Besides, our couch is free and our big brother's going to want to meet you."

"Ah, yes, the big one that roofs houses?" James asked. Soda grinned.

"You dig alright man. Come on." He jerked his head toward the house. "I'll call Darry when we get to the house. Steve, you gonna come by after work."

"You know I love free food, man." Soda knocked him upside the head and the two parted ways, him leading the three of us toward our house. I hung back a little, Marcus walking with my brother and telling him about our first visit to the church while James walked beside me, glancing around and then down at me.

"How's it going, kid?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow. "You look like you've been eating at least."

I shrugged. "Yeah…I'm fine."

"You get everything here sorted out?"

"For the most part."

"Good." He nodded, looking around. "Never been this far south." He observed.

"I'd never been that far north before," I told him.

"I see you're still covering up." He nodded toward my arms and I nodded as we reached our street. I'd kind of hoped we wouldn't have to talk about that. Soda was laughing up ahead, and Marcus nodded, gesturing with his hands and saying something I didn't quite catch. A couple of people on the street gave us kind of weird looks, their eyes on Marcus and my brother, but I ignored them. "Show them your arms?"

"I showed Soda and Darry," I told him, not mentioning that I'd only showed them once, and then I'd been sure to cover up ever since.

"What about your back?" I sighed, glad to see him but wishing he'd let this go.

"Yeah." Once. At the doctor's office, only to Soda, and not once since. But he didn't need to know that. James lifted his hands as if in surrender, grinning a little.

"Alright, kid. I'll drop it. You don't need to be ashamed of it is all I'm saying." I shrugged again and he put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing a little. "You doing okay kid? Really?"

I thought about it, thinking about the doctor and the consoler, the hearing and the days I'd spent at home with my family. Things weren't perfect yet. Heck, some things were still pretty bad. I worried about fighting with Darry again, and if those socs would come after me. I worried about going back to school and when the questions from Dr. Song actually got hard. But I was home. I was with my family again and Darry had custody and my friends had my back. "Yeah. I'm doing okay."

Soda held open our front door then, and I held back, James going ahead of me as we all stepped into our living room. Soda headed off to call Dally and try to track him down and I dropped into Darry's recliner as my friends took the sofa, both of them ready to tell Soda all about my time in New York. And I sat back, ready to listen. Between my new friends and my big brother, I was exactly where I wanted to be.

The End

 _ **Thank you so much for reading. There will be a sequel, but it might be a little while :) In the meantime, I have lots of other stories planned.**_


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